New Age Blues
by Laragh
Summary: The Blues Brothers movie with Willow and Tara at the main front, dodging cops and singing songs. This is a total rip-off the movie and was written under the influence of cough syrup and Halloween candy. It's very weird. It's not good. I've warned you.
1. Chapter 1

_TITLE:_ New Age Blues

_AUTHOR:_ Laragh

_STORY RATING:_ NC-17 (Sex, Language, all that jazz. Or blues as it were.)

_DISCLAIMER:_ Well a vague disclaimer is nobody's friend, so, Buffy The Vampire Slayer characters and/or dialogue all belong to Joss Whedon, Fox, The WB, UPN and Mutant Enemy; The Blues Brothers enterprise including characters, dialogue and plot belong to Dan Aykroyd, John Belushi, John Landis, Saturday Night Live and Universal Pictures, I am making no money from this, just a lowly viewer and avid fan.

_SUMMARY:_ The Blues Brothers movie with Willow and Tara at the main front, dodging cops and singing songs.

_SPOILERS:_ For Buffy The Vampire Slayer; none, for The Blues Brothers; the entire movie.

_EMAIL:_

_FEEDBACK:_ Pretty please with sugar on top.

_AUTHOR'S NOTE:_ Okay, I claim absolutely no originality in this, if anyone has seen the Blues Brothers and read this, they'll know that the vast majority of the dialogue and the entire plot is completely copied from the original script of the movie, except for a few details that I changed or added. This is supposed to be silly and just a bit of fun. I enjoyed writing it so I hope you enjoy reading it

* * *

"Hey, watch your hands," Tara growled as a guard escorted her down the large hallways, his hands dipping a little too low as they walked.

He ignored her but changed his hold to her arm as they continued down the halls, through courtyards and doorways until they arrived in a small room, bare apart from a yellow line on the floor and large window, free of any glass, which had another very bored looking guard sitting behind it. He grudgingly stood and leant one elbow on the pane.

"What wing?"

"Maximum. Block four."

"Standard release?"

"Parole, fourteen months outta twenty four, good behaviour."

The guard behind the partition sighed and straightened up.

"Give me a minute."

Tara watched him leave and return a couple of minutes later, small box and clipboard in his hands. She went to walk forward, but was pulled back by the guard who was still keeping a death grip on her arm. The other guard eyed her for a minute before starting to take the items from the box.

"One black, leather-strapped watch. Screen smashed. One silver ring. Engraved. One black suit jacket. One pair of black suit pants. One tie, black. One hat, black. One pair of sunglasses, black. All men's in appearance. Thirty-nine dollars and six cents. Sign here."

Tara leant forward, keeping her feet behind the yellow line on the floor and snatched her arm free and she scribbled on the sheet and took her items. The guard grabbed hold of her once again and led her through to another room, where she removed the orange jumpsuit that she had called clothing for the past fourteen months and back into the outfit she had spent a lot more time in, feeling the comfortable pressure of a hat on her head and the darkened state of the world though her sunglasses. She slipped the ring onto her left hand, delighting in the way it felt, having been taken off of her not long after she'd put it on for the first time.

She was dragged out into another courtyard and through the grass until she was finally in front of a small gate. The guard flung in open and motioned for her to go through. Tara gratefully stepped over the threshold into her freedom, hearing a loud banging behind her, before seeing a beat-up car in the near distance, a body leaning against it, wearing identical attire to her own. She saw the figure tip their sunglasses forward, looking at her for a second, before moving towards her. Tara walked forwards as well, meeting the individual halfway.

"Well if it isn't Toughskin Tara," the figure purred, placing a hand on top of Tara's hip, "Finally outta the jailhouse."

"Oh shut up, Willow," Tara replied, pulling the other girl to her, their faces just inches apart, "Being behind those damn glass partitions every time you visited, I haven't gotten to kiss you in over fourteen months."

Willow was stopped from saying anything else as she felt warm, soft lips crush against her own. She tipped her own hat off and wrapped her arms around the brunette's neck, opening her mouth, delighting in the sorely-missed contact of Tara's tongue caressing her own for several minutes until a car skidded past, blowing a dust storm into their faces.

"Damn dirt," Willow grumbled, in between coughs, before grabbing the brunette's hand, "Come on, let's blow this joint."

"You've been watching those western movies again, huh?" Tara asked as she stepped into the opened door of the car.

Willow hopped into the passenger seat and shot the brunette a winning smile.

"My girl's been locked up for over a year. Had to spend my time doing something."

Tara was about to reply when she took in the vehicle she was sitting in as it began moving down a dirt road.

"What the hell is this?"

"What?"

"This car! This shitty car! Where's the Mercedes? The Merc? Where's the Merc?"

"The what?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Willow Blues, the Mercedes we used to have! The Blues Mobile!"

Willow looked shifty for a minute before shrugging.

"I traded it."

Tara gaped at the redhead and shook her head.

"You traded the Blues Mobile…for this?!"

"No. For a new harmonica."

"A harmonica? Okay. I can see that. Well, what the hell is this?"

"This was a good deal. I got it at the Spring Hollows police auction last fall. It's an old SH police car. They were giving them away."

Tara harrumphed and looked out the window.

"Well, thank you very much. The day I get out of prison and my own wife picks me up in a police car."

Willow turned onto a main road and glanced at the brunette, jutting her lower lip out predominantly.

"You don't like it?"

Tara narrowed her eyes at the redhead's attempts to sway her.

"No. I don't like it."

Willow sighed and drove up onto a drawbridge, the ends rising. She pushed on the accelerator slightly and smirked, before ramming down and driving them straight over the gap, landing with a bang on the other side of the bridge. She slowed her speed and put one of Tara's hands over her own on the gear stick. Tara gave a small smile and ran her thumb along the redhead's knuckles.

"It's got a lot of pick up," she said cordially.

"It's got a police motor, a four hundred and forty cubic inch plant, cop tires, cop suspension, cop shocks, made before catalytic converters so it'll run on regular. Whaddya say, baby? We got a new Blues Mobile? For Mrs. and Mrs. Blues?"

Tara bit her lip in contemplation and tried to roll down the window, the handle coming off in her hand. She sighed and threw it on the floor.

"Fix the damn window."

Willow smiled as she pulled up outside an old cobblestone building.

"You got it."

Tara smirked and leaned over, intending to meet her wife's lips in a loving kiss when she noticed where they were and pulled back, scowling.

"What are we doing here?"

Willow sighed, wishing she'd parked further away so she could have availed of the smoochies she was almost given, but she knew they had to do this.

"Promise is a promise, baby. Day you got out. Visit the penguin. You promised. We promised."

"So? I lied."

"You can't lie to a nun. Besides, penguin hates me a lot more than she hates you."

Tara glanced at the redhead and gave her a lustful smile.

"That's 'cause she caught you sneaking into my bed when we were seventeen. She gave you a good lickin' with the ruler that night."

Willow raised an eyebrow and brought their conjoined hands up to her mouth, kissing the brunette's knuckles.

"And I gave you a good licking that night as well. As well as nights before and many following nights…" she grinned, then nodded her head towards the orphanage where they had both grown up, having been abandoned by their respective parents as babies within days of each other, "She never would've found out if you just kept your damn voice down."

"Well if you had been able to keep your tongue in your mouth and outta my body, nothing woulda happened at all."

"Yea, exactly. Nothin'. No 'us'. Only good thing to ever happen to me was you, so no more of this 'if the penguin hadn't caught us' shit. Not our fault the woman who good as raised us doesn't like that we're together. Besides. I always figured she was a little bit jealous. So come on. We're going in."

"No fucking way."

"Tara, we're damn well going in, so shut your trap and move it."

Tara rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Fine. But only 'cause I love that assertive side so much."

"Damn right she loves my assertive side," Willow whispered, grinning and jumping out of the car.

Tara reluctantly stepped out of the car and walked around, pushing the creaking door of the orphanage open with a shudder. She walked up the long, twisty stairs, hearing Willow right beside her. They arrived outside a large oak door and Willow was just about to knock when a loud voice came through from inside.

"Who is it?"

"Freakin' nun terrifies the crap outta me every time she does that," Tara muttered, while Willow rolled her eyes.

"It's Tara and Willow."

"Come in."

Willow grabbed the brunette's hand and walked them though the door, which banged shut behind them. Tara jumped slightly and the nun beckoned them forward.

"Hello girls. Nice to see you again. Have a seat. Please."

The two girls sat at the back of the room, as far away as possible. The nun made the same hand gesture again.

"No, up here. I want to see your faces."

The couple shuffled forwards in their seats, both gulping when they saw the stern look cross the nuns face.

"County did a tax assessment. They want five thousand dollars."

"Wow. Five thousand? Don't the church pay that?" Willow asked.

"They would. If they wanted this place to stay open. They want to sell the place to the Board of Education."

"Well what's gonna happen to you?" Willow spoke up again.

"Missions, I suppose," the nun replied with an exaggerated sigh, then glanced downwards at the still-conjoined hands of the couple. She grabbed a ruler from her desk and slapped it against their hands, "You two are still living in the throes of sin!"

"Like hell we are," Tara replied sharply, snatching her hand away from the piece of wood, "We're married now."

Tara winced as the ruler once again came down upon her on her leg this time.

"Married! Not in the eyes of the church or the good lord, you're not!"

"Yea well these rings say different!"

Tara held up both hers and Willow's hands, showing off the matching silver bands and felt the ruler on their fingers this time.

"Christ, Tara, stop giving her ammo!" Willow yelled, pulling her hand away.

"Language!" the nun yelled as she started bringing the ruler down repeatedly over the two of them.

"Ow!"

"Shit, ouch!

"Fuck! Stop hitting us!"

"Freaking penguin, stop!"

They continued being hit until the ruler broke with an audible snap. Tara saw the nun reach for a sword hanging on the wall and jumped up, running down the stairs. Willow saw too and rushed to get out of the way of the oncoming swat, tumbling down the stairs, while still sitting in the chair in the process. She gaped up at the nun who was looking down, menacingly.

"You are the biggest disappointments I've ever seen. To think, two girls I raised to respect the lord and believe in the Ten Commandments, come back, living in sin with filthy mouths and abhorrent attitudes! Leave! Get out! And don't come back until you redeem yourself!"

The couple watched as the nun retreated into the office, the door banging closed inexplicably. Willow stared for another second before jumping up from her position on the floor and wiping some errant dust off her jacket.

"Damn nun."

Tara was about to voice her agreements when they heard a familiar voice a few feet away.

"Girls, you must learn that you just cannot talk to nuns that way. Willow, Tara…"

The couple looked towards the sound of the voice and ran towards it, speaking at the exact same time.

"Giles!"

"Girls," Giles replied with a small smile, "Can I offer you a beverage? Some tea perhaps?"


	2. Chapter 2

Giles put two cups of tea in front of the girls and sat at the kitchen table next to them. He took a sip from his own mug, and looked at the couple.

"Dear lord, girls, you're still wearing those god-forsaken outfits. It was cute when you were eight years old and you wore them because they were the only clothes donated to the orphanage, but you're grown women now. Why you continue to wear the suits and hats and sunglasses is beyond me…"

Willow glanced at her wife and shrugged, her eyes twinkling.

"'Cause Tara looks damn fine in that get-up."

"And Willow makes sunglasses look like the hottest thing since Venus," Tara replied, grinning, "Uh, the planet, not the goddess. Although..."

Giles sighed and shook his head.

"Well at least you were listening in those geography lessons. Listen, girls. Things are bad. The church are going to sell this place to the Board and I'll be forced into living on the streets. The funds have to be acquired and handed over to the Assessors office within eleven days."

Willow looked down into her tea; Giles had been living in the orphanage since both she and Tara were little girls, having lost his home and job as an insurance broker all in the one month, leaving him nowhere to go. Despite being effectively homeless though, he always remained cool, calm and collected. Seeing him worried about something worried the redhead even more. She looked up as she heard her wife speak.

"They won't just…turf you out, will they?"

"Quite right they would," Giles scoffed, "What's one more limey to Board?"

"Christ, Giles, you and the old penguin up there are the only family we've ever had. Part from each other, of course," Willow said, glancing over to the brunette with a loving smile, "And you're the only one who was ever good to us. You taught me how to ride a bike. Hell, you taught me how to play the harmonica!"

Giles gave her a stern look at the use of the word 'hell' and using the lord's name in vain.

"The nun is right. You do need to attend church. Both of you do. Go to Sunny Heights Church. I have a friend there, she counsels people after they've gone through the system or left rehab. Her name is Reverend Jenny. Listen to what she has to say."

Tara sighed and shook her head.

"Giles, I don't wanna listen to no preacher, jiving about heaven and hell and all that."

Giles took the three now-empty cups and put them in the sink, before turning and fixing the brunette with a steady gaze.

"Tara, you listen, because I am going to speak quite plain. You get yourself to that church, now!"

* * *

Tara leaned against the back wall of the church, avoiding eye contact with Willow, who had dragged her to the church as soon as they left, per Giles' instructions, which had resulted in a minor argument in the car on the way over. Willow saw the brunette sulking and walked up to her.

"I'm sorry."

Tara crossed her arms over her chest and looked the redhead in the eye.

"What for?"

"For whatever it is that pissed you off so damn much, that's what," Willow said, then sighed when she saw the scowl her statement produced, "I'm sorry for dragging you around all these places when you've just gotten out of the slammer and we should be spending our time together, but it's Giles, baby. And he told us to come here. Penguin would've kicked us after she found out about us if it wasn't for him intervenin' and making sure we got to stay. So for Giles. We listen to this Jenny, then we got no more promises we got to keep, except those vows we made to love and be with one another for the rest of our lives. So will you stop scowling and give me a kiss or what?"

Tara let her hands drop and shifted around for a second, before rolling her eyes and pulling the redhead to her, giving her a firm kiss on the lips.

"Damn sweet talker," she said when they pulled away, a small smile on her face.

Willow grinned and took the brunette's hand, pulling her further into the church as a voice came over the sound system.

"And now, this week's sermon is going to be delivered by our very beloved Reverend Jenny Calendar."

The couple watched as a woman took the stage dressed in deep purple robes. She held up and microphone and looked around at the packed church, smiling.

"People. People, people, people. I went to bed last night and slept with a wonderful peace. Peace that I knew God was with me."

"So what, that makes her the new virgin Mary?" Tara whispered to her wife.

Willow gave her a pleading look and gestured towards the pulpit, for her to listen. Tara directed her attention back towards the reverend.

"But when I woke up…when I woke up, I heard a troubling sound. Do you know what that sound was? It was the jingling of a thousand lost souls. Men, women, all people who have departed from this life. People who cannot…will not find the secret of divine life! It's too late! Too late, the Lord says! But the souls here on earth…don't be lost when the time comes! Follow the light, follow the Lord and don't be lost. Amen! Amen!"

The congregation began singing and moving rhythmically to 'The Old Landmark'. Tara felt her own arm start to move of its own accord. Willow saw and looked at her strangely.

"Tara, you okay, baby?"

A ray of light shone through one of the windows, hitting Tara full on. The brunette felt a sudden clarity come over her, a reasoning of everything filling her entire being. Her face broke out into a massive grin.

"The band," she said, almost whispering, then raised her voice, "The band!"

"Do you see the light?" Jenny shouted into the congregation.

"The band!" Tara shouted.

"Do you see the light?!" Jenny proclaimed once again.

Willow looked between the reverend and her wife, completely bewildered.

"What damn light?"

"HAVE YOU SEEN THE LIGHT?!"

"Yes, I've seen the light," Tara declared loudly, "Jesus H. god damn Christ, I've seen the bastard light!"

Willow opened her mouth in shock as Tara started doing back flips down the aisle of the church, joining in the dancing with the rest of the parishioners, until she sidled up to the redhead and swooped her down, giving her a long kiss. She pulled back with a grin.

"The band, Willow. The band."

Willow looked confused for a moment before realisation crossed her features.

"The band? The band…The band? The band!"

"Praise Jesus," Jenny yelled from the stand.

"And God Bless these god damn United States!" Willow yelled before grabbing Tara's hand and pulling her out of the church and into their car.

They both jumped in and Tara slapped her knee excitedly as Willow started the car, driving onto the road.

"We'll put the band back together," Tara said, grinning, "Do a few gigs, get some dough. Five thousand bucks, easy."

Willow nodded and took a deep breath.

"You know, baby, getting the band back together might not be that easy."

"What the hell are you talking about, Willow Blues?" Tara asked, narrowing her eyes.

"They split. All took honest jobs."

"Okay…but you know where they are. You said you would keep in touch with them…"

"I have a few numbers…" Willow replied, biting her lip, "But I mean, how many visited you when you were inside? I can tell you, none, 'cause I was the only one who did. I mean, did they even write you?"

"The band are not 'writing' people. You were outside, I was locked up, you were s'posed to keep in touch. I asked if you were gonna play again!"

"Well what was I supposed to say?! Take away your only hope? Take away all that was keeping you going? I took the liberty of bullshitting you, and as my wife, I have that privilege."

"You lied to me."

"I didn't lie to you, baby, it was just bullshit," Willow said, driving through a yellow traffic light, sighing deeply, "I swear, I didn't – oh shit!

"What's wrong?" Tara asked, her concern outweighing any anger. She glanced into the rear-view mirror and saw flashing police car lights, "Shit. Rollers?"

"Yea," Willow nodded, pulling over to the curb, "Fuck."

She rolled down her window as a cop approached.

"What? What'd I do?"

"You failed to stop at a red, ma'am."

"That was a yellow, _sir_."

"May I see your licence?"

Willow shoved her hand into her pocket and pulled out her wallet, taking her licence out and handing it to the officer, who took it back to the squad car.

"Dammit," Tara said, kicking the floor of the car.

"Man, I haven't been pulled over in eight months," Willow replied, leaning her head against the steering wheel, "I bet these guys got SCMODS and everything."

"SCMODS?"

"State, County, Municipal, Offender, Data, System."

Two officers returned, having run Willow's licence through their system.

"Willow, we report that your licence is currently under suspension. Can you please step out of the car."

Willow nodded and looked as if she was about to open the door, but instead started it and drove off, speeding along the road. Tara looked back and saw the cops jumping into their own car, following them. She glared at the redhead.

"First you trade the Mercedes for a damn harmonica, then you lie to me about the band and now you're gonna put me right back in the joint."

"They're not gonna catch us, baby. We're on a mission from God."

"Willow!"

Willow turned into a parking lot of a shopping mall, the officers still chasing them.

"We'd be fine if we could just get onto an expressway…" Willow said, looking around the lot.

"This don't look like a damn expressway to me!"

"Don't yell at me!"

"What the fuck do you want me to do, egghead?!"

"It would help if you were a little more damn positive some of the time. Why not offer some constructive criticism?"

"You got us into this fuckin' lot, you get us out," Tara said, then got a small grin on her face, "Honey."

Willow shot the brunette a winning smile and pressed down on the accelerator.

"You want out of this parking lot? Fine. What my girl wants, my girl gets."

Tara watched as Willow drove straight through the large display window of a Toys'R'Us, beeping the horn to get people to move out of the way, until they driving down the main aisles of the shopping mall. She glanced at the shops they were passing, nodding her head in approval.

"Gilligan's Burgers..."

"Yea. Nice space in this mall," Willow nodded, navigating around the shops.

"Celebrity hair cuts…"

"Yep. Maternity clothes. Baby clothes. Toddler clothes. "

"This place has got everything."

"Uh huh. Pier One Imports, " Willow commented, then drove them through a large window, onto a main road.

* * *

Behind them, the squad car that was chasing them suddenly flipped over while trying to avoid hitting a shopper and skidded along the floor. One of the officers blinked a couple of times to get his bearings, then glanced downwards.

"Bitches broke my watch! I'm gonna catch them if it's the last thing I do!"


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, come on," Tara said, stroking her wife's hair, "You, beautiful redhead. Come on, Will, you gotta get up."

Willow stirred and fluttered her eyes open, looking into the baby blue eyes that were her life. She smiled lazily.

"That was the best night I've had since you went away. If you get yourself locked up again I'm damn well doing something to go away with you. Not right, married and apart."

"Not right," Tara agreed, "'Specially when the damn state won't give you conjugals."

They met for a brief kiss before Tara pulled away and pulled the blanket off of them.

"Damn, baby, it's cold!"

"I know," Tara said, getting out of the bed, "Why you should get dressed."

Willow grumbled something under her breath that Tara couldn't quite hear and stood up, gathering her clothes.

* * *

Outside the building, three cars pulled up outside the couple's building, one on the opposite side of the road and two directly outside it. From the two directly outside it, two cops got out of one of cars, while a burly man in street clothes got out of the other. The burly man pointed and the building and grinned.

"This, boys, is the stylish lodging of a one, Mrs. Willow Blues."

The cops glanced at each other, then back at the man, a detective they had had to call in for help.

"Thanks for your help, Langley."

Detective Langley leant against his car and stuck a piece of chewing gum in his mouth.

"You know, I kinda like the Dodger Stadium bit."

"Yea," one of the cops scoffed, "It was adorable."

Langley spit his gum onto the ground and beckoned the other two to follow him into the building. They walked up the stairs and to Willow's door. The cops were about to knock when Langley stopped them, getting into a stance as if he was about to kick the door in.

"Stand back."

* * *

Outside, in the third car, the woman inside still reeling from her failed rocket launcher attack the night before, pressed the button on a small remote she had in her hands, watching the entire building blow up and collapse in a heap of rubble, before driving away, quickly fleeing the scene.

In rubble, Willow stood first, then picked a large piece of rock off of her wife's back and helping her up, oblivious to the cops that had been just about to arrest her, buried somewhere behind them, before glancing at her watch and sighing.

* * *

"Almost nine o' clock. Come on, baby. We gotta get to work."

Willow pulled up outside the large propellant factory she had been working in for the past year and jumped out of the car.

"Back in a minute, baby."

Tara nodded and the redhead walked into the large factory, and over to a conveyor line, beside another worker. She glanced at the woman and seeing that she was paying to attention to her, grabbed a couple of cans from the line, figuring they might come in handy at some stage, and put them in her old briefcase before walking over to her bosses office and going in.

Her boss looked up momentarily as she entered.

"Well, Willow. Sit down. What's happening?"

"I gotta quit," Willow said plainly.

"Oh. And why is that?"

"I'm, uh…I'm gonna become a nun."

Her boss looked at her strangely for a second before nodding his head.

"Well, okay. I'll call payroll, have them get your severance pay ready."

Willow nodded gratefully before standing.

"God bless you, sir."

"Well, thank you, Willow."

Willow nodded one more time before standing up and leaving the office, rushing downstairs and into the car,

"Right. All sorted, baby. Can you navigate?"

"Sure," Tara nodded, "Where are we off to?"

Willow handed her wife an old cigarette box that had writing and some sort of a map on it.

* * *

"That is the last known address of Spike and Big Arms."

Willow pulled up outside a suburban-type house and looked over her sunglasses at the number on the door, making sure she had the right address.

"This is the place."

Tara nodded and got out of the car, Willow following as they walked up to the large house. Tara knocked and smiled pleasantly when a short, middle-aged woman answered.

"Mrs. Whitter?"

"Whistler."

Tara rolled her eyes, hidden behind her sunglasses and continued.

"Ma'am do a Mr. William Blood or Mr. Alexander Harris live here?"

"No…no…" Mrs. Whistler shook her head, "They left a long time ago. I haven't taken in boarders for about a year now."

Willow glanced at her wife and moved forwards.

"May we come in, ma'am?"

Mrs. Whistler stepped aside and smiled.

"Please."

All three women walked into the living room of the house.

"Did they leave a forwarding address?" Tara asked, leaning on a baby grand piano in the room."

"No."

Willow sighed and rubbed her temples beneath her hat for a moment.

"Did they live quietly? Any, you know…personal habits?"

Mrs. Whistler shrugged her shoulders and looked between the two girls.

"They were good boys. Made a lot of noise at night, though. Are you two cops?"

"No, ma'am," Willow said seriously, "We're musicians."

Tara straightened herself up and nodded at her wife, indicating towards the door. Willow understood and they both walked out the door and back to their car. Willow was just fastening her seatbelt when she heard someone yelling.

"Miss! Miss! You! Miss!"

She rolled down her window and smiled at the woman.

"Yes, ma'am?"

Mrs. Whistler handed a business card through the window.

"They left this. Maybe it could help?"

Willow took the card and grinned, before handing it over to her wife, who grinned as well.

"Lead on, Mrs. Blues."

* * *

The couple walked into The Century Room of The Holiday Inn and watched a band on a small stage play to an almost empty room. They went and sat at one of the tables while a few people clapped to an ending song.

"Thank you. You guys are great. You're really great. My name is Riley, but these guys call me 'Mud' and these here are the Magic Tones. William 'Spike' Blood; Cordelia 'Princess' Chase; Larry 'Mr. Fabulous' Blaisdell and Faith 'Rogue' Lehane. We'll be back with the Magic Tones for the Century Room's two-hour disco swing party after this short break. 'Til then, don't you go changing."

Riley put Billy Joel's Just The Way You Are on the stereo and noticed the two girl's sitting at one of the tables. He nudges the rest of the band and pointed. They all looked at each other and nodded, before walking over to them.

William put a hand on Tara's shoulder as they approached.

"Tara. Thought you got two years."

"Did, Spike. Good behaviour."

Faith sidled up and grabbed a chair, turning it around and sitting on it.

"So, Tara, you're out, you're rehabilitated, what's the what, where ya goin', how ya doin'? You gonna get the damn money you owe us, bitch?"

Willow stood up and slammed her hands against the table in anger.

"Now you listen here, the only damn reason my wife got locked up in the first place was 'cause those damn jokers we played for the night we got married – who we played for even though it was our first damn day as newlyweds, just for you guys – wouldn't pay up and then got all physical. Bastards pulled a damn knife on my one and only and when she tried to defend herself, damn cops called it assault."

"You're kidding…?" Riley said, sitting beside Faith.

"No I'm not fuckin' kidding. She was trying to get your money and nearly got freakin' killed in the process, so you damn well watch your mouth."

"You did?" Larry asked from the side.

"Yea she fuckin' did, so I better not hear anymore of this small change shit."

Tara pulled her wife back into her seat and leant forward at the table.

"We're putting the band back together."

"Yea," Willow nodded, calmed down slightly, "And you guys…you were the backbone of the band. I mean, you make rhythm and blues alive, make it breathe. But look at you up there, singing for all of three damn pensioners? I thought I had it bad without Tara, but man, that's something else. And what are you wearing? You look like a freakin' mariachi band. Without the hats."

"Least we've got some new clothes," Cordelia scoffed, "You two are wearing the same suits as long as we've known you."

"Willow speaks the truth, though," William piped up, "We had a band powerful enough to turn piss into gasoline."

"We'll never get that sound again, though," Larry added, "Not without some horns. We'll never get Heaven."

"Why?" Tara asked, "Where is she?"

"Forget it," Riley shook his head, "Buffy Summers, top maître d' at Chez Paul. She's pulling down some good dough each week."

"Yea and Xander went and got himself married," Cordelia added.

"Where is Xander 'Big Arms' Harris?" Willow asked.

"He opened up a burger joint with his old lady down on Barclay Street, and he took Angel with him," William said, "You'll never get them all out of their high-paying gigs."

"Oh yea?" Tara challenged, "Well me and the Lord? We got an understanding."

"Yep," Willow nodded, "We're on a mission from God."


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey, come on," Tara said, stroking her wife's hair, "You, beautiful redhead. Come on, Will, you gotta get up."

Willow stirred and fluttered her eyes open, looking into the baby blue eyes that were her life. She smiled lazily.

"That was the best night I've had since you went away. If you get yourself locked up again I'm damn well doing something to go away with you. Not right, married and apart."

"Not right," Tara agreed, "'Specially when the damn state won't give you conjugals."

They met for a brief kiss before Tara pulled away and pulled the blanket off of them.

"Damn, baby, it's cold!"

"I know," Tara said, getting out of the bed, "Why you should get dressed."

Willow grumbled something under her breath that Tara couldn't quite hear and stood up, gathering her clothes.

* * *

Outside the building, three cars pulled up outside the couple's building, one on the opposite side of the road and two directly outside it. From the two directly outside it, two cops got out of one of cars, while a burly man in street clothes got out of the other. The burly man pointed and the building and grinned.

"This, boys, is the stylish lodging of a one, Mrs. Willow Blues."

The cops glanced at each other, then back at the man, a detective they had had to call in for help.

"Thanks for your help, Langley."

Detective Langley leant against his car and stuck a piece of chewing gum in his mouth.

"You know, I kinda like the Dodger Stadium bit."

"Yea," one of the cops scoffed, "It was adorable."

Langley spit his gum onto the ground and beckoned the other two to follow him into the building. They walked up the stairs and to Willow's door. The cops were about to knock when Langley stopped them, getting into a stance as if he was about to kick the door in.

"Stand back."

* * *

Outside, in the third car, the woman inside still reeling from her failed rocket launcher attack the night before, pressed the button on a small remote she had in her hands, watching the entire building blow up and collapse in a heap of rubble, before driving away, quickly fleeing the scene.

In rubble, Willow stood first, then picked a large piece of rock off of her wife's back and helping her up, oblivious to the cops that had been just about to arrest her, buried somewhere behind them, before glancing at her watch and sighing.

* * *

"Almost nine o' clock. Come on, baby. We gotta get to work."

Willow pulled up outside the large propellant factory she had been working in for the past year and jumped out of the car.

"Back in a minute, baby."

Tara nodded and the redhead walked into the large factory, and over to a conveyor line, beside another worker. She glanced at the woman and seeing that she was paying to attention to her, grabbed a couple of cans from the line, figuring they might come in handy at some stage, and put them in her old briefcase before walking over to her bosses office and going in.

Her boss looked up momentarily as she entered.

"Well, Willow. Sit down. What's happening?"

"I gotta quit," Willow said plainly.

"Oh. And why is that?"

"I'm, uh…I'm gonna become a nun."

Her boss looked at her strangely for a second before nodding his head.

"Well, okay. I'll call payroll, have them get your severance pay ready."

Willow nodded gratefully before standing.

"God bless you, sir."

"Well, thank you, Willow."

Willow nodded one more time before standing up and leaving the office, rushing downstairs and into the car,

"Right. All sorted, baby. Can you navigate?"

"Sure," Tara nodded, "Where are we off to?"

Willow handed her wife an old cigarette box that had writing and some sort of a map on it.

* * *

"That is the last known address of Spike and Big Arms."

Willow pulled up outside a suburban-type house and looked over her sunglasses at the number on the door, making sure she had the right address.

"This is the place."

Tara nodded and got out of the car, Willow following as they walked up to the large house. Tara knocked and smiled pleasantly when a short, middle-aged woman answered.

"Mrs. Whitter?"

"Whistler."

Tara rolled her eyes, hidden behind her sunglasses and continued.

"Ma'am do a Mr. William Blood or Mr. Alexander Harris live here?"

"No…no…" Mrs. Whistler shook her head, "They left a long time ago. I haven't taken in boarders for about a year now."

Willow glanced at her wife and moved forwards.

"May we come in, ma'am?"

Mrs. Whistler stepped aside and smiled.

"Please."

All three women walked into the living room of the house.

"Did they leave a forwarding address?" Tara asked, leaning on a baby grand piano in the room."

"No."

Willow sighed and rubbed her temples beneath her hat for a moment.

"Did they live quietly? Any, you know…personal habits?"

Mrs. Whistler shrugged her shoulders and looked between the two girls.

"They were good boys. Made a lot of noise at night, though. Are you two cops?"

"No, ma'am," Willow said seriously, "We're musicians."

Tara straightened herself up and nodded at her wife, indicating towards the door. Willow understood and they both walked out the door and back to their car. Willow was just fastening her seatbelt when she heard someone yelling.

"Miss! Miss! You! Miss!"

She rolled down her window and smiled at the woman.

"Yes, ma'am?"

Mrs. Whistler handed a business card through the window.

"They left this. Maybe it could help?"

Willow took the card and grinned, before handing it over to her wife, who grinned as well.

"Lead on, Mrs. Blues."

* * *

The couple walked into The Century Room of The Holiday Inn and watched a band on a small stage play to an almost empty room. They went and sat at one of the tables while a few people clapped to an ending song.

"Thank you. You guys are great. You're really great. My name is Riley, but these guys call me 'Mud' and these here are the Magic Tones. William 'Spike' Blood; Cordelia 'Princess' Chase; Larry 'Mr. Fabulous' Blaisdell and Faith 'Rogue' Lehane. We'll be back with the Magic Tones for the Century Room's two-hour disco swing party after this short break. 'Til then, don't you go changing."

Riley put Billy Joel's Just The Way You Are on the stereo and noticed the two girl's sitting at one of the tables. He nudges the rest of the band and pointed. They all looked at each other and nodded, before walking over to them.

William put a hand on Tara's shoulder as they approached.

"Tara. Thought you got two years."

"Did, Spike. Good behaviour."

Faith sidled up and grabbed a chair, turning it around and sitting on it.

"So, Tara, you're out, you're rehabilitated, what's the what, where ya goin', how ya doin'? You gonna get the damn money you owe us, bitch?"

Willow stood up and slammed her hands against the table in anger.

"Now you listen here, the only damn reason my wife got locked up in the first place was 'cause those damn jokers we played for the night we got married – who we played for even though it was our first damn day as newlyweds, just for you guys – wouldn't pay up and then got all physical. Bastards pulled a damn knife on my one and only and when she tried to defend herself, damn cops called it assault."

"You're kidding…?" Riley said, sitting beside Faith.

"No I'm not fuckin' kidding. She was trying to get your money and nearly got freakin' killed in the process, so you damn well watch your mouth."

"You did?" Larry asked from the side.

"Yea she fuckin' did, so I better not hear anymore of this small change shit."

Tara pulled her wife back into her seat and leant forward at the table.

"We're putting the band back together."

"Yea," Willow nodded, calmed down slightly, "And you guys…you were the backbone of the band. I mean, you make rhythm and blues alive, make it breathe. But look at you up there, singing for all of three damn pensioners? I thought I had it bad without Tara, but man, that's something else. And what are you wearing? You look like a freakin' mariachi band. Without the hats."

"Least we've got some new clothes," Cordelia scoffed, "You two are wearing the same suits as long as we've known you."

"Willow speaks the truth, though," William piped up, "We had a band powerful enough to turn piss into gasoline."

"We'll never get that sound again, though," Larry added, "Not without some horns. We'll never get Heaven."

"Why?" Tara asked, "Where is she?"

"Forget it," Riley shook his head, "Buffy Summers, top maître d' at Chez Paul. She's pulling down some good dough each week."

"Yea and Xander went and got himself married," Cordelia added.

"Where is Xander 'Big Arms' Harris?" Willow asked.

"He opened up a burger joint with his old lady down on Barclay Street, and he took Angel with him," William said, "You'll never get them all out of their high-paying gigs."

"Oh yea?" Tara challenged, "Well me and the Lord? We got an understanding."

"Yep," Willow nodded, "We're on a mission from God."


	5. Chapter 5

Willow held the door of Chez Paul restaurant for the brunette, tipping her hat cordially as she walked though.

"Thanks, m'lady," Tara giggled and took the redhead's hand as they walked towards the small podium that Buffy 'Heaven' Summers was standing behind, on the phone.

"We do mainly French cuisine. Yes, ma'am. Yes. Oh, no, he doesn't dine here any longer. Yes, he died. Private rooms are available," Buffy continued to speak to the woman on the other end of the phone until she noticed Willow and Tara approaching. She held the phone away and gaped at them, "You! You got two years! It's barely been one! Oh no, not you ma'am. Okay. Your name? And that's for 8pm? Okay, thank you, ma'am."

"Heaven," Tara greeted with a smirk, "You're looking wonderful. Younger than ever."

"You guys cannot be here!"

"Nonsense," Tara continued, "My sweet wife and I have come to celebrate my early release from the state penitentiary system."

"We can talk outside," Buffy tried to reason, "Let's get some coffee outside."

"Why, heavens no!" Willow scoffed, "We seek a full meal and all the compliments of the house. Come, Tara, let us adjourn ourselves to the nearest table and overlook this establishment's board of fare."

Willow walked her wife into the restaurant and sat at a large table in the middle of the room just as the phone rang. Buffy picked it up hastily.

"Good evening, Chez Paul," she greeted, then saw the couple moving inside, "Hey, wait no! Oh god…oh, sir, could you call back in maybe five minutes?"

Buffy hung up the phone and looked as another couple glared at Willow and Tara, having missed out on the table they were sitting at. She forced a smile at them.

"I'm sure we'll have a table for you in just a moment," she said wincing when she heard Willow whistle loudly, "Excuse me, won't you?"

Tara snapped her fingers to get a waiter's attention and smiled at him when he came over.

"Give us a bottle of your finest champagne, five crab cakes and some bread for my wife."

"We have a Don Perignon, a '71 at $130."

"That sounds dandy, pal," Willow replied, then saw Buffy walking towards them and waved.

"Come on, you guys," Buffy said pleadingly, "The food here is expensive. The soup is ten dollars! Come on, we'll go outside, I'll buy you a mocha…"

Willow sat back on her chair, balancing it on two legs.

"We're putting the band back together," she said, fixing Buffy with a steady gaze.

"No way," Buffy shook her head fiercely, "Not a chance."

"We're on a mission from God," Willow replied, before grabbing a bread roll as their food arrived, "Good bread."

"What the hell is this?" Buffy asked, roaming her eyes over the food on the table, before she saw another customer beckon her to them and walked over with a forced smile, "Good evening, sir. How are your steaks?"

"The steaks are fine," the man replied, looking flustered, "It's just, well, we'd like to be moved to a different table. Away from those two…ladies. Quite frankly, I find them offensive to the human condition."

"Just one moment, sir, I'll see if there's another table available."

Buffy turned and saw a bottle of wine arriving at Willow and Tara's table, wincing when she saw Tara hold up her water glass and the water try to explain that it was the wrong glass before Tara broke off a piece of crab cake and throw it into Willow's mouth. She was about to go back to them when she saw Willow turn to the customers she had just attended to and point at the little girl at the table.

"How much?" Willow asked in a faked-Russian accent.

The man twisted around in his seat and turned up his nose at the redhead, almost snarling at her.

"Excuse me?"

"Ze child. I want to buy ze child. Sell me your daughter! Sell her to me!"

The man spluttered for a moment before clicking his fingers.

"Maître 'd! Maître 'd!"

Buffy ran to Willow and pulled her back to her table.

"You guys need to cut it out! I'm gonna be asked to call the cops!"

"You can't do that, Heaven," Tara moaned, "Not to me!"

"She just gotta outta the slammer," Willow continued, "On parole, man. Can't call the cops on us!"

"Yea. And anyway," Tara interjected, "We're putting the band back together."

Buffy shook her head once again.

"I said no. No freakin' way."

Willow turned back to the other customers and spoke in her own accent.

"Yo! How much for the wife?" she asked, looking up and down the woman's body with a wink before turning back to Buffy, "Putting the band together. Need your horns."

"I can't. I just can't."

"We got everyone but Big Arms and Angel and we're getting them next," Tara said, "Come on, can't tell me you don't wanna see your winged boy again."

"No. No. I won't, I won't do it."

"If you say no," Willow said, slurping on her wine loudly, "Me and the missus will come here for breakfast, lunch and dinner every single day of every single week."

Buffy spotted the owner of the restaurant making his way towards her and sighed.

"Fine. Fine. I'll do it."

The couple smiled at each other before standing and walking out of the restaurant. Buffy fell into one of the seats, hanging her head in her hands as customers around her continued to try and get her attention.

* * *

"Only two more to get," Willow smiled as they drove along a main road, "We'll get to the boys tomorrow. We better find a motel room. Can't have my beautiful woman sleeping in the car."

Tara rested her hand over the redhead's on the gear stick as they continued driving until they came across a flashing sign for a motel an turned into the car park. After finding the man in the reception area fast asleep in his chair, Willow carefully took one of the keys from behind the desk and the two sneaked out again and into to the room.

"Glad that guy was asleep," Willow said, closing the door behind her, "I thought we might have to start making out to distract him long enough to grab a key."

"And what'd be bad about that?" Tara smirked as she flopped onto the bed, taking off her hat and sunglasses.

"Nothin'," Willow smiled, kicking off her shoes, "I just like our smoochies to be outta the eyes of pervy middle aged losers."

The redhead put her hat and sunglasses on top of the old TV set in the middle of the room before walking over to the bed and crawling on top of the brunette.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" Tara asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, you see, I wined you…and I dined you…"

"So...you're saying you want to 69 me?"

"I'm saying that I'm not the type to leave things unfinished…so really, I have to 69 you."

"This another mission from God?"

"More like a mission from my pussy," Willow grinned, "'Cause it's screaming at me to get you naked."

"Never been one to deny you anything," Tara grinned back, sitting up and slipping her jacket off her shoulders, "I'll let you take off the rest."

The brunette leaned back on her arms as Willow pulled at the fabric of her tie, loosening it and yanking it off before she began unbuttoning her shirt.

"Hello, ladies," Willow purred when the taller girl's bra-clad breasts came into view, "You're looking damn fine."

The redhead unhooked the front clasp of her wife's bra and slid all her clothing off her body so she was topless, before popping the button on her pants, scooting off the end of the bed and dragging both them and the brunette's panties off her body, leaving her completely naked. She was about to get back into the bed when Tara held up a hand and waved it back and forth.

"I believe you need to be naked for this to work properly."

Willow smiled in agreement and divested herself of her own clothing in record time before jumping back into the bed on top of her wife.

"Hi."

"Hello there," Tara replied, "I think you're the wrong way around."

"Nuh uh," Willow shook her head, "'Cause I want you on top. Wanna be able to spank you a little if I feel like it."

"Oh really? And you think I'm just gonna let you-"

"Yep," Willow cut her off, "'Cause you like getting it as much as I like doing it."

Tara rolled them onto the other side of the bed so that she was on top and raised herself up on her forearms.

"You tell a soul and you'll never get into my pants again."

"Can be our little secret," Willow grinned, "I don't want anyone else thinking about your butt anyway."

"Damn vixen," Tara replied, a small smile playing on her face, before she leaned down and captured the redhead's lips. They stayed kissing, letting the passion build slowly until the brunette pulled away and put her mouth near the redhead's ear, "Will?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Spank real hard."

"I always do."

Willow heard the brunette growl and nibble on her earlobe for a moment before starting to turn herself around. The redhead bent her own knees and spread her legs as she felt Tara settle, hands running along her thighs. She let her own hands cup her wife's ass cheeks, adjusting her so they were both in a comfortable position before bringing her down to meet her mouth.

Tara groaned and wrapped her arms around the redhead's thighs before dropping her head into a very wet centre, focusing on entering her wife with her tongue as she felt her own clit being lavished with attention.

Willow took the brunette's clit into her mouth and sucked on it gently, before flicking her tongue over the tip in fast strokes. She let her hands massage the flesh beneath them for a minute before bringing her left hand down hard, smiling internally when Tara bucked into her face as she did so. She brought her right hand down as well and felt the thighs either side of her start to twitch.

She eased off slightly, wanting them to come together and felt Tara start to enter her more urgently, curling her tongue to hit against her sweet spot. A few seconds of this was all she needed to near her peak and brought both hands down on her lover's ass at the same time and felt a gush of juices flow into her mouth instantly at the exact same moment she crashed, both of shaking as their tongues gathered up the rewards of their efforts.

After a few minutes Tara gathered the strength to turn herself back around and collapsed on top of her wife, using her breasts as pillows.

"That was pretty damn good," Willow grinned, whistling in approval as she stroked the brunette's hair.

"Hell yea it was," Tara replied, then turned her head up and grinned, "Wanna go again?"

Willow quirked an eyebrow and a lazy smile graced her features.

"With you, baby? Always."


	6. Chapter 6

Ethan Rayne stood in front of the masses of people he had gathered, all in the same beige uniforms that he was, looking up to him, waiting for him to speak, to address them as the leader he was. He ignored the other crowd that had formed, yelling their disapproval for his party at him, throwing things, trying to be restrained by the few cops that were patrolling. He cleared his throat and held up the megaphone, switching it on.

"White Men! White women! The swastika is calling you. The Jew is using the black as muscle against you. And you are left there helpless. Well, what are you going to do about it, whitey? Just sit there? Of course not. You are going to join with us. The members of the American, Socialist, White peoples party. An organisation of decent, law abiding white folk. Just like you. I pledge allegiance to Adolf Hitler!"

"I pledge allegiance to Adolf Hitler!" the collection of Nazi's that had gathered yelled back in response.

"The immortal leader of our race!" Ethan continued, punching his hand in the air.

"The immortal leader of our race!"

"And to the order for which he stands!"

"And to the order for which he stands!"

"One great cause!"

"One great cause!"

"Sacred and invincible!"

"Sacred and invincible!"

Willow stopped the car behind a truck and looked out to see a long stream of traffic in front of her and some sort of crowd up ahead. She rolled down her window and saw an officer near them.

"What the hell's going on?" she shouted to him.

He walked forward and leaned against the door.

"Damn tramps won some court case, going on a march."

"What tramps?"

"Fuckin' Nazi Party," the cop replied before walking off.

Willow watched him go, staring disbelievingly for a second before shaking her head.

"California Nazis!"

Tara let out a long, slow breath and shook her head as well.

"I hate California Nazis!"

They heard a loud 'Hail Hitler' from Ethan and an echoing sentiment from the crowd. Willow scowled and moved the car out of the line of traffic and onto the grass, speeding straight towards the bridge that Ethan and his followers were yelling. The protesters got out of their way as the continued forward and Willow saw Ethan look at her defiantly for a second, as if daring her to keep going, which she did, both herself and Tara bursting into laughter as the entire congregation jumped off the bridge and into the river to get out of the way of the oncoming car.

Ethan coughed, trying to get some of the water that had gotten into his lungs when he hit the water and grabbed one of the men beside him.

"Perpen Fuhrer?"

"Yes, sir?" the man replied, standing up straight.

"Perpen Fuhrer, get that cars licence plate number. We're gonna kill that son of a bitch."

* * *

"Stupid Nazis," Willow scoffed as they turned onto Barclay Street, "Them and their stupid Hitler."

"There it is," Tara replied, pointing at one of the establishments on the street, "Harris Burgers. Boy never was that original."

Willow made a noise that Tara was assumed was an agreement and pulled over outside the restaurant, the two of them getting out and walking in the door, each sitting on a stool at the counter. A pretty blonde woman came over, notebook in her hand, the tag on her apron revealing her name to be Anya.

"How can I be of service to receive your monetary goods?" she asked pleasantly.

Willow stifled a laugh and leaned on one elbow.

"Got any white bread?"

Anya looked confused but nodded her head.

"Sure. We have white bread. I can offer it as an accompaniment to many delicious, yet reasonably priced breakfast meats."

"Just white bread, please. Toasted."

"Butter? Jam? You're sure I can't offer you the meat?"

"Dry, ma'am. Just dry white toast."

"Okay," Anya replied, rolling her eyes, "But it costs the same, condiments or no. And I don't give discounts."

"Quite alright," Willow replied, tapping her fingers on the counter.

Anya turned to Tara and waited for her to speak. Tara looked thoughtful for a second.

"Got any colby cheese?"

"Yes," Anya replied impatiently, "Of course."

"And burgers?"

"Best in the state."

"I'll have four cheeseburgers. With colby cheese. And a coke."

"And some dry white toast, please," Willow added with a smile.

"Right. Okay," Anya said, writing it on her notepad, "You want a drink with that?"

"No, ma'am," Willow shook her head.

"A coke," Tara reitterated.

Anya shook her head and pulled the piece of paper from her notebook.

"I'll be back with your food in a minute."

She walked into the kitchen and looked at her husband, who was frying some bacon in a pan, beside Liam 'Angel' Murphy, who was chopping tomatoes. She put the paper with their order in front of them.

"Two girls out there. They look like diamond merchants or something. If they are, Xander, I want some pretty jewellery!"

"Um…what?" Xander asked, taking the pan off the stove and wiping his hands on his apron.

"Two girls. Suits. Look like they're CIA or something."

"Well, what do they want to eat?"

"Little one wants dry, white toast."

"Willow!" Xander exclaimed, his face lighting up.

"Other one wants four cheeseburgers. With colby."

"Tara! Shit, it's the Blues Girls!"

Xander out of the kitchen and over to the two girls, patting them on the back as Anya leant against the doorframe.

"Toughskin Tara Blues!" Xander exclaimed, "How are ya? How was the slammer?"

"Tough, man," Tara shook her head. "Had a mean fried chicken on a Wednesday night."

Xander smiled and turned to redhead.

"And you, Willow. You're looking a lot better than the last time I saw you," he said, glancing at Tara, "You're girl here was so mad when you went away, I swear I thought she was gonna dye her hair all black and get some dark contacts just to show off her mood."

"Shut your mouth, Big Arms, I'd never do that. Tara likes my red hair too damn much."

Tara grinned and looked between the two men.

"Listen. Me and Will. We're putting the band back together. We got everyone but you and Angel."

Xander looked scared and lowered his voice to a whisper.

"You keep quiet with talk like that, my old lady, she'll kill me."

"Listen, I know what it's like to have a cranky missus," Willow replied, eliciting a scowl from Tara. She turned to Anya, "Ma'am, you have to understand, this is far more important than any domestic issues you may be having."

Anya straightened up and glared at her husband.

"What is she talking about?"

"Now, sweetheart, don't freak out…"

"Don't 'sweetheart' me, Xander Harris. You are not going back on the road, taking you and your penis away from me, playing bars where all the girls are trying to steal you! You're with me now and you're not going off playing with these…thug friends of yours. Do you even have diamonds?!"

"No, ma'am," Tara shook her head, slightly scared by the outburst, "Except in my wedding ring, but we used all our savings to buy these and we're sure as hell never selling them."

"And besides," Xander said, "These aren't thug friends. This is Willow and Tara! The Blues Girls!"

"The Blues Girls?" Anya replied, getting angrier, "They still owe you money! Money that you buy pretty things for me with!"

"Would it help if I told you that what we're asking Big Arms for is a holy thing?" Willow piped up, "We're on a mission from God."

"Don't 'Jesus' me! That is my man and this is my restaurant and you can just leave now without my Xander and without your toast or your stupid provolone!"

"Wait now," Xander said, banging his fists on the counter, "I am a man, a strong, manly man and I will make decisions about my life!"

"You be careful, Xander Harris and think very hard about-"

"Oh shut up, woman!"

Anya glared at him and stared wagging her finger, bursting out into song.

_You better think!  
Think about what you're trying to do to me  
Yeah, think.  
Let your mind go, let yourself be free _

Three female customers got up and emphasised Anya's line of reasoning that was being shown through song by acting as backing vocals and dancers. Anya continued to glare at her husband as she sang, while Xander tried to avert his gaze.

_Let's go back, let's go back, let's go way on back when I didn't even know you!  
You came to me and too much you wouldn't take  
I ain't no psychiatrist, I ain't no doctor with degree  
It don't take too much high IQ's to see what you're doing to me_

Angel took off his hair net and threw it on the ground, before walking out of the kitchen and leaning on the counter, while Anya poked Xander in the chest as she sang.

_You better think!  
Think about what you're trying to do to me  
Yeah, think!  
Let your mind go, let yourself be free_

Oh freedom, freedom, freedom, yeah freedom  
Freedom, freedom, freedom, ooh freedom

Angel picked up his saxophone from its case underneath the counter and started playing in tune with Anya's song. Willow and Tara exchanged a look before turning and continuing to watch the scene play out.

_There ain't nothing you could ask I could answer you but I won't  
I was gonna change, but I'm not, to keep doing things I don't_

_You better think!_  
_Think about what you're trying to do to me_  
_Yeah, think!_  
_Let your mind go, let yourself be free_

Anya balled Xander's shirt in her hand, before releasing him and shoving him forwards as Angel stood on the counter, walking along it as he played.

_People walking around everyday, playing games that they can score  
And I ain't gonna be the loser my way, ah, be careful you don't lose yours_

_You better think!_  
_Think about what you're trying to do to me_  
_Yeah, think!_  
_Let your mind go, let yourself be free_

_You need me and I need you_  
_Without each other there ain't nothing people can do_

Willow and Tara looked at each other again and jumped up, joining in with the dancing customers as Anya pretended to slap her husband, stopping just at the last second and cupping his cheek, before pushing him backwards again.

_Oh freedom, freedom, freedom, yeah freedom  
Freedom, freedom , freedom, ooh freedom_

Willow and Tara sat back down in their seats, watching Xander start to go slightly red from being spun around by his wife, stumbling when she let him go.

_There ain't nothing you could ask I could answer you but I won't  
I was gonna change, but I'm not, if you're doing things I don't_

_You better think!_  
_Think about what you're trying to do to me_  
_Yeah, think!_  
_Let your mind go, let yourself be free_

_You need me and I need you_  
_Without each other there ain't nothing people can do_

Xander straightened himself and stood with his chin high, glaring at his wife as she continued her song.

_To the bone for deepness, to the bone for deepness, to the bone for deepness,_

_Think about it!_

_To the bone for deepness, to the bone for deepness, to the bone for deepness,_

_Think about it!_

_To the bone for deepness, to the bone for deepness, to the bone for deepness,_

_Think about it!_

_To the bone for deepness, to the bone for deepness, to the bone for deepness,_

_Think about it!_

_You had better stop and think before you think!_

_THINK!_

Anya kept her finger steady on Xander's chest as she sang her closing bars and there was a tense moment of them glaring at each other after the song ended before Anya retreated and Xander silently stood up and removed his apron, walking over to Willow and Tara.

"Let's boogie," he said to the couple, before walking towards the main door of the restaurant.

With one last glare to his wife, he dropped his apron beside her and walked out, Willow and Tara right behind him. Anya sighed, shaking her head, then glanced up and saw Angel looking at the door, shifting from foot to foot. They locked eyes and she gestured towards the door angrily.

"Well go right ahead!"

Angel ran out the door and followed the other three into the car, leaving Anya standing in the middle of her restaurant. She looked around at the other customers, who were awkwardly avoiding her gaze and threw the dishcloth from her apron on the floor.

"Well, crap."


	7. Chapter 7

"Hot damn!" Willow smiled as they speed off from the restaurant, "The band, back together! Give me some sugar, sugar!"

Tara leaned across the car and met Willow's lips in a sweet kiss, the redhead's eyes been taken off the road in the process, until they narrowly missed hitting another car and a loud beeping pulled them away from each other.

"I see you still don't do that whole 'careful driving' thing," Xander commented from the backseat.

"Careful is for boring people," Willow replied, "I like living life."

"And I like living it with her," Tara grinned.

"Here, Angel," Willow said, throwing a cell phone into the backseat, "Call up Mud and Heaven, tell them to meet us at Kendra's Music Exchange. We need some new equipment."

Angel looked uncomfortable, which Willow noticed from looking through the rear-view mirror.

"I know you and Heaven got your damn history but I don't care about that shit. You'd think a damn Angel would work well in damn Heaven, so get over it and call them up! Band's more important!"

Angel conceded and called up the other band members. Half an hour later, all ten members were walking through the large doors of the music shop. They all broke apart, looking at different areas of the shop, picking up some of the instruments, testing them. Willow's face lit up as she spotted an electric toaster and she pulled a slice of white bread from her inner jacket pocket, putting it in and pushing the lever down.

An African-American woman walked onto the shop floor, her hands on her hips.

"Excuse me, but we do have a strict policy concerning the handling of the instruments. An employee of Kendra's Music Exchange must be present. Now, may I help you?"

Tara and Faith walked up to the woman and Tara put a hand on her shoulder.

"Kendra! It's me, Tara. Toughskin Tara. I rented some speakers for you for my band. The Blues Girls!"

"And me, Faith. You know, Rogue? I'm with the Magic Tones? Bought some Fender™ amplifiers from you a couple of months ago."

"We sell a lot of amps…"

"Not like these. They were almost as beautiful as me. Upholstered with red shag. And let me tell you, so soft, I would've loved to have a shag on them."

"Oh. Yea," Kendra nodded, a small smile gracing her features, "I remember now. You said that at the time too. And, you know, I'll buy those back for $300."

"$300?" Faith scoffed, "I paid $750 barely six months ago."

"Depreciation…"

Tara pushed Faith out of the way slightly and smiled at Kendra.

"Kendra, we're here to buy stuff. Piano, amps, mikes, the works. Only thing we got is a harmonica and that's just 'cause my damn wife can't say no to a swap."

Faith ran her hand along an electric piano in front of them.

"Tell me about this piano."

"You got a good eye. This is the best in the state."

Tara pressed a few of the keys, nodding at the sound produced.

"How much?"

"Two thousand and it's yours. I'll even throw in the black keys."

Tara scoffed and shook her head.

"For this piece of junk? No way."

"Seriously, Kendra," Faith added, "It's used. It's a piece of shit. No action left in this baby."

Kendra looked indignant and sat on the small bench at the piano.

"This girl's got plenty of action left in her," she said, stretching her fingers out.

Willow walked over, traces of crumbs on her shirt from the toast she'd consumed, and smiled at her wife as Kendra began playing expertly, singing along to the music she was producing.

_Well I heard about the fellow you've been dancin' with  
All over the neighbourhood  
So why didn't you ask me baby?  
Didn't you think I could?_

_Well I know that the boogaloo is outta sight_  
_But to shake a leisure thing tonight_  
_Would it happen to me and you baby?_  
_I wanna show you how to do it right..._

The other band members all found their respective instruments in the store and played along with Kendra as Willow and Tara started dancing in front of the piano.

_Do it right. uh huh. do it right. do it right, do it right, do it right,_

_Do it right!_

_Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!_

Willow and Tara continued jiving and moving to the song as Kendra ran her fingers along the keys speedily.

_Twist it! shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it baby!_

Twist it! shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it baby!

_Here we go loop di loo!_

_Shake it out baby!_

_Here we go loop di lie!_

_Bend over, let me see you shake your tail feather!_

_Come on, let me see you shake your tail feather_

_Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!_

The girls followed the sung dance instructions, sliding along the floor, grinning at each other the entire time.

_Come on! come on babe! come on! yeah come on babe!_

_Alright!_

_Do the twist!_

_Do the fly!_

_Do the swim!_

_Ha! Ha! Ha!_

_And do the bird!_

_Oh!_

_Do the duck!_

_Ah!_

_Do the monkey!_

_Hey! Hey!_

_Watootsie!_

The couple each tipped their hats off and threw them to each other, catching it on their heads as they danced around the room.

_And the... what about the food?_

_Do the mashed potato!_

_What about the boogaloo?_

_The boney muroney!_

_Come on! let's do the twist!_

_Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!_

_Twist it! shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it baby!_

_Twist it! shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it baby!_

_Oh!_

_Twist it! shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it baby!_

_Twist it! shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it baby!_

_OH!_

The song ended and Willow and Tara slid onto the bench, either side of Kendra.

"Okay, you sold us," Willow smiled, "We'll take these axes."

Kendra sighed and sat back on the bench.

"And as usual I'm gonna have to take an IOU, right?"

* * *

Three cars pulled into the car park of a roadside restaurant and ten people got out, all stretching their legs in the early afternoon sun. Willow grabbed Tara's hand and turned to the rest of the band.

"You guys all go inside and grab a bite. I gotta make a call."

"Now Willow, is this phone call about our first gig?" William asked, throwing a cigarette butt on the ground and stamped it with his foot.

"Have I ever lied to you?"

William put another cigarette into his mouth and lit it before walking towards the restaurant, the remaining members following him. Willow walked herself and her wife towards a phone booth near the road.

"What are we gonna do, Will? We got no gig."

"You got any money, baby?"

"I got a quarter. Maybe two."

"Enough to make a call. Come on."

They both walked into the phone booth, barely enough room for the two of them.

"We don't both need to be in here," Willow pointed out.

"We do if you wanna make out for a little bit."

"I like that plan. But call first."

"Who you callin'?"

"Remember Richard Wilkins?"

"Wilkins? The booking agent? That snake?"

"He may be a snake but he knows people. Should be able to get us a gig. He always used to. And then I'd find a filly, get him laid in return. He owes me."

"Oh fine. But I want a smooch first."

"Impatient," Willow grinned, "C'mere."

The redhead threw her arms over the brunette's neck and leaned upwards to meet her lips in a slow kiss.

Across the road, a woman looked on, scowling when she saw the couple start to kiss and stepped out of her car, adjusting the flame-thrower she had strapped to her back before launching a flame straight at the phone booth. The flame hit a tank of gas that was sitting beside the booth and caused a massive explosion, sending the booth into the air, with Willow and Tara still inside. The woman scampered back into her car and drove off as the remnants of the phone booth and the two girls landed back on the ground. Both girls raised their head at the same time and looked at each other, before Willow noticed a glinting.

"Hey, check it out. There's gotta be at least eight bucks in change here."

They both gathered the change and pocketed it before standing and shaking themselves free of any dirt. The redhead took her wife's hand and started walking them back towards the restaurant.

"Come on, baby. We're gonna have to bluff."

* * *

Meanwhile, at Ethan Rayne's headquarters for his 'white people's party', he was scribbling his signature on a letter when he heard a knock on his door.

"Enter."

A tall man entered and waited to be spoken to.

"What did you find out?"

"I called a friend at the Motor Vehicles Department. The licence plate we took down earlier, it's like a rash all over the system. The car belongs to a known traffic menace."  
"Name?"

"Willow Blues. Got a record miles long. And, she's a catholic."

"Did you get her address?"

"Yes, sir. 1000 Elysian Avenue."

"Let's go."

Both men walked out of the building and into one of the many cars available to the party, Ethan driving while his associate gave directions. When they arrived at the large stadium, both got out of the car for a moment and stared before Ethan turned to the other man, an angry scowl on his face.

"Anybody with that kind of record is gonna make a mistake. I want all party members in the district to monitor the city, county and state police on their CB. Mrs. Blues is gonna fuck up. And when she does, she'd better pray the police get to her before we do".


	8. Chapter 8

"Alright, red, we've been drivin' for three hours, where the hell is this place?" Faith asked, kicking the driver's seat from her position in the backseat.

"I told you, it'd take a while to get there," Willow replied tersely, a bead of sweat forming on her brow.

"What's the place called?" Xander asked.

"Huh? Oh…It's called…um…it's called…" Willow's eyes lit up as she saw the flashing neon lights of a bar just ahead, "Dave's Country Bunker."

"Dave's Country Bunker?" Tara muttered, shooting her wife a skeptical look.

Willow ignored her and indicated into the car park, the cars behind her following. Everyone got out and looked around.

"Willow, the sign says 'Tonight Only: The Good Ole' Boys'…" Buffy said, looking at the large billboard near the bar.

"Huh. Would you look at that," Willow replied, taking Tara's hand, "Should say 'Glorious return of The Blues Girls and their band. Must be a mistake. Come on, baby."

Willow and Tara headed into the bar while the rest of the band gathered the equipment. The girls sat at the bar, where a middle aged woman walked over to them.

"Evenin' girls. What can I get for you? Beer, something a little harder maybe? We do some mighty fine fried chicken if you're hungry."

"No thank you, ma'am," Willow replied with an easy smile, "We might knock back some beers later, but we're gonna be here all night. We're the band."

"Oh well isn't that nice. Hey Dave, get over here. This is the band!"

"I'm coming, keep your panties on!"

"So…" Tara ventured, "What kind of music do you normally have here?"

"Oh, both kinds," the woman smiled, giving the girls a beer each, "Country and Western."

Tara smiled and turned to her wife, grabbing onto her arm.

"Are you sure this is the place, Will?"

"Yea, course. Sure this is the place."

Tara fixed the redhead with a steady gaze and Willow sighed, leaning on one hand.

"Just go with me, baby? Please? I love ya."

Tara made a clucking sound but nodded her head in agreement.

"Love ya too."

Willow was about to lean forward for a kiss when a man came up and stood between them.

"Hi. I'm Dave. Owner of this here establishment. You're the Good Ole'…Boys?"

Dave looked confused as he looked between them and Willow cleared her throat.

"It's an image thing," she explained, "We wear the suits so we call ourselves the boys."

Tara held her breath as she waited for Dave to respond and exhaled slowly when the man nodded his head.

"Well alright then. Where's the rest of your band?"

"Getting the equipment," Tara answered, "You got a really nice place here."

All three looked at the door as the rest of the band emerged and Dave straightened himself up.

"I guess you lot wanna go let up your steal guitars and what not. Honey, turn those stage lights on and get the band up there!"

The woman flicked a switch behind the bar and a small stage was illuminated, a covering of chicken wire acting as a screen in front of it.

"Chicken wire," Tara muttered as herself and Willow walked to the rest of the band, "Freakin' chicken wire."

Half an hour later, a decent crowd of what could only be described as rednecks had formed, all swigging beers as the band finished setting up. Tara held a piece of paper with a list of songs on it in her hand and sidled up to Willow.

"We don't know any of these."

"They're just requests, baby. We can play our regular set," Willow replied, before turning to Riley, "Gimme Some Lovin', right? 1…2…"

The rest of the band began playing the intro to the song and Willow grabbed the mike, taking it from its stand.

"Good Evenin' Ladies and Gentlemen, we're the Good Ole' Blues band and I hope you enjoy our show. I'm Willow and this here is my missus, Tara."

The couple started singing, barely seconds into the song, the heckling started, people yelling their discontent from the crowd, throwing beer bottles that hit against the chicken wire. Suddenly the lights went out at the stage.

"Someone turned the lights out," Larry pointed out unnecessarily.

"Maybe they blew a fuse?" Angel suggested.

"This ain't no accident," Faith said, "Those lights are out on purpose."

"We need to figure out what these guys like. And fast," Tara interjected.

There was a silence for a moment before Riley piped up.

"Hey, I know. Everyone remember the theme from Rawhide?"

"Hot damn, the old favourite," Willow replied, "Okay, what key?"

"A," Xander said, "Blues country key."

"Rawhide in A. Let's do this," Tara said, turning back to the mike.

The band played the opening bars and Willow and Tara started singing. The crowd's cheers turned into ones of enjoyment and the lights came back on as the band continued the song. They finished to loud applause.

"Theme from Rawhide," Willow said with a grin, "Thank you. Now we'd like to play a favourite from the horns. Hope you like it too."

The band started playing again as the crowd continued to settle and sing along. They played a full set until they ran out of songs and Willow smiled to the crowd, sweating from the singing and dancing she'd done that night.

"Well that's it from us. Do what you feel and keep two hands on the wheel. I don't really care where you go, but you sure as hell can't stay here! 'Til next time!"

The band played the closing of Rawhide and Tara turned as soon as they were finished, stretching her fingers.

"Let's get the hell out of here."

The band started packing up and walking out to their cars, while Dave approached Willow and Tara.

"That was some mighty fine tunes tonight. Haven't had anything that good in a while now."

"We're just sorry we couldn't remember all those requests," Willow replied cordially.

"Oh well that's alright. Learn 'em and play 'em next time you're here."

"So, Dave. About our payment…"

"Oh yea. Well, the fee was $200 and you all drank $300 dollars worth of beer…"

"Oh, uh, yea," Tara replied, biting her lip, "See the first beer your missus gave us was free, so we figured it was like, complimentary…"

Dave gave them a creepy smile and shook his head.

"Uh uh. Nope."

"Right," Willow said, taking her wife's hand, "We'll go take a collection from the band."

"I do appreciate it," Dave responded with that same smile.

Willow dragged Tara out of the bar and into the car park, where the band were discussing the gig.

"I say this trip is nowhere man. I say we gotta quit," Faith said, kicking some dirt.

"What? Quit?" Riley asked, "Well I wish you guys would make up your mind. Otherwise I've gotta call Mr. Ronzinni at the Holiday in and get our old gig back."

"Back at the Century room?" Larry asked, then shut his mouth as he saw Willow approach.

"Hey, this Dave guy is after cash for the beers we drank, you lot better split. Next gig is gonna be huge, I'll show ya."

"I say we give the Blues Girls one more chance," Angel muttered.

"Why not?" Faith exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air, "If the shit fits, wear it."

She got into one of the cars beside Angel and glared at him.

"Scoot the fuck over!"

There was a few minutes of commotion and loud banging sounds as the rest of the band packed their instruments and drove off. Tara turned to the redhead and sighed.

"They looked pissed."

"Don't worry, we got a couple of days," Willow replied, putting a hand on her arm reassuringly, "We'll meet with Wilkins, get a gig, get the penguins tax money, and we'll be golden. Everything's gonna be alright, baby, I promise. I ever lied to you?"

"You really want me to answer that?" Tara asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"I told you, bullshit, not lies, bullshit, I bullshitted you and – god dammit!"

Tara turned to where Willow was looking and swore under her breath.

"That who I think it is?"

"The actual fuckin' band," Willow affirmed, "Come on, we gotta get rid of them."

They walked towards the large RV that had pulled up and walked up to the first man that stepped out.

"Excuse me, sir, are you the Good Ole' Boys?" Willow asked, standing straight.

"Yes, I am," the man replied in a southern accent, "Trucker Jones, lead singer and sole diver of the Winnebago here. Listen, you seem like a nice lady and all but we are running very late…"

Willow put her hand in a pocket and held up a piece of scrunched up paper, flashing it as fast a bolt of lightening before putting it back in her pocket.

"My name is Wilhelmina Rogers, The American Federation of Musicians Union, local 400. I was sent here with my beautiful colleague here to see if you men are carrying your permits."

"Excuse me? Our what?"

"Your cards… Union cards… May I see your union cards, please?" Willow asked in an authoritative voice.

Trucker cracked his knuckles against his hands and stood up, towering over the two girls.

"And what if I don't have any union card and I go right in there and play anyway? What are you two little girls gonna do to me? You're gonna look awfully funny trying to eat corn if you don't have any teeth."

Willow forced a smile and let out a nervous laugh.

"Why don't I go talk to the fine owner of this establishment an see what we can sort out, getting you a contract waiver for tonight? You just stay right here, right on this spot and let me handle this."

"We'll just, um, talk to Dave," Tara added as she and Willow started backing away.

They turned and ran towards the car, just as Dave came into the car park as well. Willow leaned over and whispered in her wife's ear.

"Go into the car, start her up."

Tara wordlessly turned and followed the redhead's instructions as Willow walked up to Dave.

"You guys owe me a pretty penny for all that beer you drank."

"Man, I had a blast playing here tonight. Band did too. My lovely wife is just writing you a cheque there to cover that bar tab."

"I do appreciate it."

There was an awkward silence for a moment before Willow pointed her thumb towards the car.

"I better make sure that's coming along okay. You know how it is, joint account, I need to sign it as well. Go sit in the car and give my John Hancock on the glove compartment. So I'm just gonna…" she started walking backwards towards the car, feeling around in her pockets, "Need a pen."

She saw Dave start to move towards her and jumped in car, Tara speeding off as soon as the door was closed.

* * *

Trucker ran over to a fuming Dave, followed by the rest of his band.

"Was that the girls from the union? Did they sort everything out?"

"Union?" Dave asked in confusion, "Those damn girls skipped out owing me a lot of bread for beer. And what the hell are you all dressed up for?"

"We're the Good Ole' Boys," Trucker replied.

"You're the Good Ole' Boys? But them girls…they…Oh those girls are toast. Come on!"

Bob and the procession of men from The Good Ole' Boys all boarded back onto the RV, taking off after the two girls.

* * *

Willow saw the RV start to come upbehind them and pressed down on the accelerator. She continued speeding along the road until they was a loud banging and she saw Bob hanging out of the window, shot gun in hand.

"Our lady of blessed acceleration, don't fail me now," Willow prayed, flooring the pedal to gain speed.

What Willow didn't see was two officers sitting behind a billboard, having set up a road watch. They watched the couple speed past and one of them jumped up.

"That's the god forsaken shit-box dodge!"

"Come on. Those bastards are ours now," the other cop yelled, the two of them piling into their car.

They sped out of the grass area onto the road, sirens blaring and lights flashing where they collided instantly with the RV, both vehicles rolled over, crashing to power lines and causing a fire hydrant to spout an upward spray of water.

* * *

Tara watched the scene play out in the rear-view mirror and chuckled, relaxing back into her seat.

"That was a damn close break."

"You can say that again. Better stick to our own gigs from now on," Willow replied, "I tell you Wilkins wanted to meet in a damn sauna? Always was a perve. Agreed to meet him at some garage instead. Wants to talk over pool or something."

"When's the meetin'?

"Tomorrow mornin'."

"Damn. We're gonna be driving all night to get back on time."

"Yea. Yea, you're right," Willow replied, "Pull over."

"What?"

"Pull over!"

"But-"

"Dammit, Tara, pull over!"

Tara pulled over between a set of trees.

"Uh, what're you doing?" she asked as the redhead got out and walked around the car, opening her door.

"Come on," Willow said, pulling her wife from her seat, before opening up the backseat and lying her down.

Tara raised her eyebrows as the redhead started unbuttoning her pants.

"Are you serious? You pulled over so we could bang in the backseat?"

Willow slipped the brunette's shoes onto the road and dragged her pants off her body, throwing them onto the floor of the car.

"I want you. Now. So unless you wanna go at it against the trees…And, uh, we know from past experience that bark is a bitch."

"That was a damn good Sunday," Tara grinned, "Even if my butt was scratched for a week."

"Yea. And I got poison ivy on my legs 'cause I got on my knees for you."

"Well you shoulda put your pants back on before you decided you wanted a little taste."

Willow had managed to remove all of their clothing as they spoke and lay on top of her wife, not caring if a passing car saw them or not.

"You're damn beautiful in the moonlight."

"You're pretty hot yourself," Tara smirked, "I can't believe I let you strip me on the side of a road."

"Love makes you do crazy things," Willow replied, "So, you wanna just lie here for a while or you wanna have a little fun?"

"Well…I guess since we're both already naked and all…"

"Mmhh, good answer…"

Willow leaned downwards and caressed Tara's lips lightly with her own, kissing her softly for a few minutes before slipping her tongue into her wife's mouth and started a soft grinding motion, rocking their centres together rhythmically, their legs hanging out of the open door of the car.

She felt Tara let one of her feet fall flat on the floor and adjusted herself so that they rocked together more definitively, their clits rubbing together with a delicious friction.

Willow pulled back from the kiss with a grin as she started moving her hips faster, Tara caressing her neck.

"This is fuckin' amazing, baby."

"Don't I know it," Tara mumbled, her eyes shut tight, "You gonna make me come, stud?"

Willow began pumping her hips even faster and dropped her head into the brunette's neck, sucking on her pulse point. Tara groaned and stretched her head upwards, giving the redhead more room. The redhead brought her teeth into the mix, determined to mark her wife and heard the taller girl moan loudly before growing taut.

"Willow."

The redhead heard her name being whispered with such revere, such devotion as the brunette came and felt her own orgasm tumble through her in response, a strangled groan rising from her throat before both of them stilled completely, Willow's head resting in the crook of Tara's neck as they both breathing heavily.

"That was some damn fine lovin'," Willow said after a moment, "Damn fine."

"Yes it was," Tara agreed, sleepily, "Very good."

Willow heard the tired tone in her wife's voice and gave her a sweet kiss.

"Come on. I'll drive us back tonight; you rest your beautiful eyes. We'll just get dressed first, okay?"

"You're amazing," Tara replied, "So amazing."

Willow smiled and started gathering their clothes.

"And don't you forget it."


	9. Chapter 9

"Dick, you owe me. We'll play anywhere, anytime for anyone," Willow said as she potted one of the balls on the pool table.

Richard Wilkins scowled as he saw the redhead make the shot, she was playing ten times better than him and he didn't like it.

"What about some of the old joints?" Tara suggested from where she was sitting beside her wife, "The Crystal? Sunny Park Theatre? We useta knock 'em dead there."

"I don't know, girls. Things are different, times have changed. I mean, what? Are you doing your same old act? With your same old suits? You'll scare the folk away. Don't you ever wear some jeans, or a short skirt? Draw in the male population?"

"Listen, Dick," Willow said, chalking her pool cue, "You gotta come through for us. We need $5000. Fast."

"$5000?" Richard scoffed, "Who do you think you are, the fucking Sunshine Band? You need to fill some hall to take in that kinda money."

"We can fill any hall in the country."

Richard leant against the table for a second, in contemplation.

"You know the Castle Hotel Ballroom?"

Willow looked at Tara, who shook her head.

"Never heard of it."

"It's a nice place. About twenty miles north. Seats 5000. You fill that up, you'll get your money easy."

"Right. Book us for tonight," Willow replied.

"Hold it. Hold it. A gig like that, you need time to set it up. Prepare the proper exploitation."

"I know that stuff," Tara said, "Been exploited my whole life."

"No way. Not for you two. No way," Richard responded, shaking his head.

Willow leaned forward, getting a glint in her eye.

"Say, how's Mrs. Wilkins? I might have some information she'd like to know."

"You threatening me, Willow?"

"If you wanna put it like that. We need this damn gig!"

"We're on a mission from God," Tara added.

"You get us the hall, Dick, and I guarantee we'll pack 'em in from miles around. Whaddya say?"

Richard sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Okay. I'll get ya the Castle Hotel. I'll print up showbills, I'll make the place look real pretty okay? I don't think you guys are gonna gross dollar one, but if you do, I want a taste of the gig, okay?"

"Done," Willow replied, sinking the black ball and winning the game, "Come on, beautiful."

Willow took the brunette's hand and walked her back out to the car, her smile beaming.

"Okay. First things first, baby. We gotta get the word out."

* * *

"Alright, children, gather round, gather round."

Giles waited as a group of young girls sat around him.

"Dear lord, there is such an awful lot of you. Alright. Now I'm sure you've all heard me converse about one Willow and Tara Blues. They lived here years ago, quite like you right now. And I used to play music with them, just like I do with you. And tonight, those lovely girls are playing to raise money so that you children can continue to live here. So now, we're going to walk the streets and inform the people about their show. Now let's move."

* * *

"Alright, I'm driving, you're yelling," Willow said, grabbing the megaphone they had gotten from the backseat and handing it to her wife, "Go."

Tara switched the megaphone on and rolled down her window.

"Tonight only, the fabulous Blues Girls, rhythm and blues, Castle Hotel Ballroom! The fabulous Blues Girls, rhythm and blues! Hey! On the motorcycle! Blues Girls, Castle Hotel! Tell your friends!"

* * *

A little girl ran into the former Harris Burgers, now called Jenkins Eatery and ran up to Anya, a flyer for the band in her hand.

"Excuse me, Miss, could I please, pretty please with a cherry on top put this in your window, 'cause it's super important?"

Anya looked at it and rolled her eyes, before handing it back to the girl with some tape.

"Make sure it's straight."

* * *

"Tonight only, free parking, only $2 cover fee!" Tara yelled, "Everyone, come along!"

* * *

Jenny unrolled a poster giving the band information for the night and stuck in up on the church notice board. She smiled as she looked at it.

"Praise Jesus, let them sell out."

* * *

Trucker Jones zipped up his pants in the men's room of the gas station he had stopped at and was about to leave when he noticed something written on the wall.

"Tonight only the Blues Girls, genuine rhythm and blues. Castle Hotel Ballroom, tonight only," he read aloud, a look of anger crossing his face, "Damn Blues Girls."

* * *

"That's right, tonight only, Blues Girls, Castle Hotel…" Tara trailed off and turned off the megaphone as the car started to splutter, "What's wrong?"

"We're outta gas," Willow replied, kicking the floor.

"Oh shit."

* * *

At the Castle Hotel Ballroom, the rest of the band walked through the main doors of the hotel ballroom, looking around.

"Wow," Riley commented, "This is some room. Place is gonna swing tonight."

"Yea," Faith scoffed, "It's a fucking barn. We'll never fill it."

Giles came in from the side, where he'd been waiting for Willow and Tara to show up, to wish them luck before the show.

"You most certainly will fill this room tonight. A lot of young children are depending on it."

Buffy, like the rest of the band, looked confused and stepped towards Giles.

"Young children? What are you talking about?"

Giles sighed and took a seat, before launching into the story of why the girls had been so gung-ho about putting the band back together.

* * *

Willow pushed the car the last few feet into the nearest gas station and collapsed against the trunk, breathing heavy. Tara got out and offered her a bottle of water.

"Gee, thanks," Willow said, sarcastically, "And thanks for helping with the pushin'."

Tara just rolled her eyes and turned as one of the gas station workers came out of the shop.

"Out of gas."

"Yea," Tara nodded, "Need to fill her up."

"No," the man shook his head, "I mean we're out of gas. Tanker truck's late."

"Oh," Tara replied, "I, uh, guess we'll have to wait."

* * *

At a precinct downtown, Detective Langley was handed the gig flyer that had been circulating and nodded his head, a small smile on his face. He picked up his phone and dialled an extension number.

"Officer, Langley. I know where they are."

* * *

At the hotel, the band were practicing behind the curtain on the stage, and Giles was standing at the back of the room, checking his watch frequently as the room filled with people.

"Where are you girls?"

So busy looking at his watch, he didn't notice a group of men, dressed in cowboy gear with the words 'Good Ole' Boys' written across the back of their jackets, walk in, along with Dave, from the bar, who was still tagging along, baseball bats in hand.

"I don't see those Blues Girls," one of the men said.

Trucker looked around and hit the bat against his palm.

"We'll wait."

* * *

Willow sneakily lit up a cigarette on the side of the car, watching as Tara filled the car up, the truck having finally arrived.

She smiled as the brunette leaned over, giving her a delicious view of her butt, before glancing at her watch and realising the time. She threw the butt on the ground and ran over to her wife, grabbing her by the arm and pushing them both into the car.

"We're fuckin' late!"

* * *

At the hotel, the room was now filled with impatient people, clapping rhythmically in an attempt to get the band onstage, shouting 'we want the Blues'.

Backstage, the band were finished setting up and were just waiting for the girls to arrive.

"I always did like performing for angry mobs," Angel commented.

"No need to be flippant," Giles remarked, having gone backstage when the room had filled, "You can't quit now."

Buffy pushed William off his seat set up at the drums and sat on it, sighing.

"Where the hell are they?"

* * *

The girls drove as fast as the car would allow as they neared the hotel, until Willow spotted the assemblage of police cars formed outside the hotel. She turned off to the side and drove into a storm drain, parking at a tunnel near the ballroom.

They both stepped out and Willow stumbled on her feet a little.

"Would you get it together," Tara chastised, "We got a show to do. And don't think I didn't see you smoking that damn cigarette. You're not getting no kisses from me tonight."

"It was just one!" Willow complained as they started up the tunnel, "Wasn't even a full one! I promise, no more."

"Alright, alright. We got bigger things to worry about. Like how we're gonna collect the door money for this and get it to the assessor's office first thing in the morning."

* * *

Inside, the crowd continue to get rowdy and Buffy jumped up, shaking her head.

"I'm leaving."

"Damn. We were so close," Angel replied.

"Well…wait," Giles interjected, "Do you know Minnie the Moocher?"

"The little cartoon mouse?" Larry asked.

"Certainly not. I was referring to the song by a one Mister Cab Calloway."

"Sure. We know it," William nodded, "So what?"

"Play it."

The band started playing and the curtains opened, Giles singing the lead vocals as the crowd yelled excitedly.

_Hey folks here's the story 'bout Minnie the Moocher  
She was a lowdown hoocie coocher  
She was the roughest toughest frail  
But Minnie had a heart as big as a whale_

_Hidehidehidehi_

The audience answered by singing the line again.

_Hodehodehodeho_

The audience repeated the line again.

_Hedehedehedehe _

The line was once again sung back, continuing in this fashion as Giles sang.

_Hidehidehideho_

_She messed around with a bloke named Smokie_  
_She loved him though he was cokey_  
_He took her down to Chinatown_  
_and showed her how to kick the gong around_

_Hidehidehidehi_

_Whoah_

_Hedehedehedehe_

_A hidehidehideho_

* * *

Willow spotted a cop lying against a tree and took Tara's hand, putting her finger to her lips to tell her to be quiet. Tara nodded her understanding and silently continued walking past the cop.

* * *

Giles had the audience captivated as he continued to sing loudly.

_She had a dream about the king of Sweden  
He gave her things that she was needin'  
He gave her a home built of gold and steel  
A diamond car with platinum wheels_

_A hidehidehidehidehidehidehi_

_Hodehodehodehodehodehodeho_

_Hidehidehidehidehidehidehi_

_Hodehodehodehodehodehodeho_

* * *

Willow and Tara could hear the music playing from inside the hotel as they traipsed through the car park. They were just passing a large RV with 'The Good Ole' Boys' written on the side when Willow stopped them and quietly walked into the vehicle. Inside there, she pulled a large can of industrial strength glue from the briefcase she was carrying and sprayed it under and on top of the brake and accelerator before slipping back out the door and holding the can up to her wife.

"Glue. Strong stuff," she whispered.

"You're damn hot when you're naughty, you know that?" Tara grinned.

"I know," Willow replied, "Come on."

They both scrunched down as they walked by the row of police cars outside the hotel, when Willow stopped them and took a second can from her briefcase, spraying it between the tyres of the cop cars.

"What're you doing?" Tara asked.

"This can is from the surplus disposal run. Fifteen overcharged ounces of pure uncompounded isopropanol butane monosulfate. When combined with oxygen and a little heat it causes rapid expansion."

"You're damn hot when you're being all smart too."

"You just gotta accept you married an all-round hot mama yama," Willow grinned, before continuing onwards.

* * *

Langley walked into the filled room, followed by numerous uniformed police officers. Two of the cops came up beside him.

"Alright. Lets take them down."

"Wait a minute," Langley said, rubbing his stomach, "Now I've never even heard these girls sing. Alright?"

The two cops looked at each other for a second and nodded.

"Alight. They're not going anywhere."

"Okay. Cover all exits, come on, hurry up. All exits. Let's go."

The officers disassembled to cover all the exits and Langley took a seat at the back with the spare cops. He tapped his fingers on the table before speaking.

"Who wants an orange whip? Orange whip? Orange whip? Get me three orange whips!"

* * *

Willow spotted an open window along one of the walls and nudged Tara, pointing it out to her. They both walked over and the brunette crawled through first, followed by Willow until they were both standing in a toilet cubicle. They walked out, revealing that they were in the men's toilets and Willow gave a small wave to the two men at the urinals.

"Evenin' boys."

They walked out of the bathroom and to the back of the entrance of the ballroom, a large curtain shielding their view. Willow poked her head inside and saw the flurry of cops and quickly retreated. She nodded at Tara and they both opened the curtain a fraction, trying to get Giles' attention on stage. He noticed them after a moment and put his thumb up to indicate his understanding when they made a motion to say they would get to the stage before clicking his fingers at the band, who started the upbeat intro song.

Giles smiled to crowd and swayed slightly to the beat to buy some time before taking the mike.

"Ladies and gentlemen, good evening. It is the distinct pleasure of the management and myself to present to you, the evening's star attraction, the wonderful, magnanimous, brilliant girls who I am proud to have known for almost their whole lives. Please welcome to the stage, Toughskin Tara and Willow Blues, the Blues Girls!"

The girls had managed to get themselves to the side of the stage and smiled at each other as they prepared to go on. Tara went first, doing a cartwheel into the middle of the stage and Willow slid in beside her, both grabbing the two microphone's available just as the band hit the final note of the intro.

The audience was deathly quiet and Willow gulped audibly. The couple shared a glance and Tara got a slightly cocky smile on her face before tapping her foot rhythmically.

"1, 2, a 1, 2, 3, 4."

The band started playing the opening bars of 'Everybody Needs Somebody To Love'.

Tara brought the mike up to her mouth.

"We're so glad to see so many of you lovely people here tonight. We would especially like to welcome all the representatives of California law enforcement community who have chosen to join us here at the Castle Hotel Ballroom at this time. We certainly hope you all enjoy the show and remember people that no matter who you are and what you do to live, thrive and survive, there's still some things that make us all the same. You, me, them, everybody. Everybody."

_Everybody needs somebody_

_Everybody needs somebody to love, someone to love_

_Sweetheart to miss_

_Sugar to kiss_

_I need you, you, you_  
_I need you, you, you_  
_I need you, you, you in the morning_

_When my souls on fire_

_Sometimes I feel, I feel a little sad inside_

_When my baby mistreats me, I never, never, never have a place to hide_

_I need you_

Tara smiled as she sang, Willow providing her backing vocals and clicked her fingers to the beat as the redhead broke off and started playing her harmonica. The audience started to get into it, clapping along and Tara did a back flip onto the middle of the stage.

_Sometimes I feel, I feel a little sad inside_

_When my baby mistreats me, I never, never, never have a place to hide_

_I need you, you, you_  
_I need you, you, you_  
_I need you, you, you_  
_I need you, you, you_  
_I need you_

The audience were all standing and dancing along as the energy in the room rose considerably, some band members moving more onto the stage to join in the jiving. Tara spun the mike around and looked between the audience and her wife as she spoke-sung the next part, Willow still providing back up.

_You know people when you do find somebody_

_Hold that woman, hold that man_

_Love him, please him, squeeze her, please her, hold her_

_Squeeze and please that person, give 'em all your love_

_Signify your feelings with every gentle caress_

_Because it's so important to have that special somebody_

_To hold , kiss , miss, squeeze and please!_

Tara took one of Willow's hands and spun her in place a couple of times before wrapping her arm around her waist, swaying in place as she finished the song.

_Everybody needs somebody_

_Everybody needs somebody to love, someone to love_

_Sweetheart to miss_

_Sugar to kiss_

_I need you, you, you_  
_I need you, you, you_  
_I need you, you, you_  
_I need you, you, you_  
_I need you, you, you_  
_I need you, you, you_  
_I need you, you, you_  
_I need you, you, you_

_In the morning_

_When my souls on fire_

_When I need that woman of mine_

_I need you, you, you, you_  
_I need you, you, you, you_  
_I need you, you, you_  
_I need you!_

The audience clapped wildly, stamping their feet and screaming as the song ended, loud wolf whistles carrying throughout the room.

"Thank you!" Tara yelled, "That was for Wilson Picket. This is dedicated to the late great magic sound. 1, 2…"

The band started playing California Dreaming and Willow took the lead vocals this time, giving the audience a winning smile.

_All the leaves are brown  
And the sky is grey  
I've been for a walk  
On a winter's day_

_I'd be safe and warm_  
_If I was in L.A_  
_California Dreamin'_  
_On such a winter's day_

Willow cast her eyes to the side and saw Langley sitting there, with the other cops and gulped when he gave her a wave and made a motion indicating that he would get her later. She cocked her head at him challengingly before continuing her song.

_Stopped into a church  
I passed along the way  
Well, I got down on my knees  
And I pretend to pray_

_You know the preacher likes the cold_  
_He knows I'm gonna stay_  
_California Dreamin'_  
_On such a winter's day_

The band started an instrumental interlude of the song and Willow grabbed her wife and starting dancing them around the stage for a few minutes before sidestepping them completely off stage. Tara put her hand on the redhead's shoulder.

"It's like the damn mafia are out to get us!"

Just as she said it a large man in a suit put his arms over the two of them and she shot her wife a scared look, who shrugged, indicating she didn't know who it was.

"You gals were amazing, superb, fantastical! I gotta record you!"

"You shitting me?" Willow asked, her eyes wide.

"I don't shit anybody. I'm the president of Cook Records, largest company in the west and I want you two on my label."

The two girls exchanged looks that the record producer took as apprehension and pulled a wad of cash from his pocket.

"$10,000. Call it an advance on your first recording session," he said, handing over the cash, "We have a deal?"

"Fuck yea you got a deal," Willow said, taking the cash and counting out $5000, before handing the rest back to the man, "Do us a favour? Give $1300 of this to Kendra at Kendra's music exchange and give the rest to the band."

"Yea, and listen, those cops out there? They're for us. You happen to know any back entrances or something?" Tara asked.

"Sure," the man nodded, "Used to be head bouncer here. There's an electrical service duct right behind your horn players."

"You rock, dude," Willow said, pulling Tara towards the horns.

"Thank you," Tara added.

The couple crawled onto the floor and Willow got Buffy's attention.

"Me and Tara are gonna make a break for it. You guys keep playing."

Buffy nodded her understanding and Willow pulled the small door of the duct and slipped down, Tara following. Buffy used her foot to kick the door closed as she continued playing her trombone.

In the audience, Langley looked up and turned to the officers.

"Something's wrong…where's Willow?"

Just feet away from him, Trucker Jones seemed to realise the same thing and turned to the rest of the Good Ole' Boys.

"Where's the Blues Girls?"


	10. Chapter 10

The electrical service duct had lead to a tunnel system of sewers, that Willow and Tara were currently walking through.

"I really hope this leads someplace," Tara commented.

"Chill, baby. We're gone."

Suddenly there was the repetitive sound of shots being fired and Willow pulled them both to the grounds as bullets flew over their heads. Tara glanced up and saw a woman standing there.

"Who the hell is that chick?"

"Well, well, Willow," the as-yet-unidentified woman said, looking down at the two of them, "Slithering around in the mud like an animal. It suits you."

Willow turned her head to her wife and lowered her voice to a whisper.

"Let me take care of this."

She went to stand up but the woman shot again, missing the redhead but making her stay on the ground.

* * *

Inside, Langley heard the shots and turned to the officers.

"Hear that? Come on, let's go."

* * *

Back in the sewer, Willow forced a smile at the woman.

"It's nice to see you again, Amy."

"You're a despicable pig, Willow Blues. I asked you, I begged you to be in your damn band and you said no. No, that the band wasn't together anymore! I could have booked us anywhere, my voice and my family connections, and me and you, we could've been epic. The ultimate power couple! I know you love me, Willow, I know, you just feel obligated to that," Amy spat out the last word, looking at Tara, "But you don't need to be! We can be together! But you'll never leave so now, for myself and the common good, I must kill the two of you."

Willow slowly got up and walked towards Amy, with a concealed, reassuring wink to her wife.

"Please don't kill us. You're right, I do love ya, I do, and I'd never leave if I was with you!"

Amy's face lit up and she lowered the machine gun in her hands.

"Willow…Willow, honey!"

Willow walked forward and wrapped her arms around Amy's waist, before leaning her down as if she was about to kiss. She moved her head so their mouths were just inches away before promptly dropping her in the mud and yelling at Tara.

"Let's go, baby!"

Tara quickly stood up and ran to catch up with Willow, stopping momentarily to kick some mud into Amy's face.

"She's my damn wife."

The couple ran down the passageway until they were at their car and both jumped in.

"Who the fuck is that chick?" Tara repeated when they were inside.

"Amy Madison," Willow answered, "Right after you went inside, I'd spend my nights at the bar, missing you and she came up every night, saying we should be together and become the new Blues Girls. I damn well nearly hit her the first night for suggestin' it, but she kept comin' back, kept askin' until I just stopped going anymore. I didn't realise she was damn crazy though."

"So you're saying you rejected her for little ole' me?" Tara asked, batting her eyelids.

Willow started the car and turned to her wife with a smile.

"I'd reject every woman in the world long as I knew you were mine."

Tara was about to lean over for a kiss when they heard another gun shot and scrambled to start moving. Willow checked her rear-view mirror, saw Amy running towards them and adopted a serious expression.

"It's 106 miles to Los Angeles, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark and we're wearing sunglasses."

Tara reached into her wife's pocket and threw the pack of cigarettes out the window before smiling at her sweetly.

"Hit it."

* * *

In the car park of the Castle Hotel, Trucker Jones and his band piled into their RV and drove off as the cops all tried to drive, their wheels exploding from Willow's tampering earlier making them crash into each other as they rocked back and forth.

* * *

The girls were speeding along in their car, numerous squad cars that had managed to get out of the car park and the Good Ole' Boys Winnebago following them.

In the RV, Trucker was driving with his band and Dave all standing around him.

"Can't this damn thing go any faster?" Dave asked, tapping his foot  
impatiently.

"Uh, Dave…" Trucker ventured, as the vehicle accelerated forward, his foot stuck down, "I think I got a little problem."

"God dammit, boy! What's wrong with you?!" Dave yelled as they speed past all the other cars and crashed through a bridge, going straight into a lake beneath.

Trucker held tight onto the steering wheel, his lower half completely submersed, before exhaling slowly, glaring at Dave.

"Don't say a fuckin' word."

* * *

"Baby, I think we're safe," Willow said after an hour of driving, just as they were going through the outskirts of Los Angeles, "I kept that motel room key from the other night, it's about twenty minutes from here. You wanna crash?"

"You sure they're not still following us?" Tara asked, sticking her head out the window to look herself.

"Yea. We lost 'em a while back."

"Alright. Alright, yea. But we gotta get that money in first thing tomorrow mornin'."

"We will, beautiful. I promise."

Tara nodded with sleepy eyes and Willow started driving faster, arriving in the motel in under fifteen minutes. There were no other cars in the car park and the two got out, walking into the room, that looked the exact same as when they left it, sheets still messed up with one of the pillows on the ground, having been thrown off by the redhead during a dream.

"Least if they don't check it, they won't find us," Willow commented, closing the door, "You going to bed?"

"I'm gonna have a shower first," Tara replied, then turned and held onto both of the redhead's hips, "Wanna join?"

"Thought you were tired."

"Well fine, if you don't wanna be wet and naked with me then-"

"No, no, I want, I want!"

"Good girl," Tara grinned and started walking backwards towards the small bathroom, unbuttoning Willow's shirt as they went, "Showering with you is much nicer than with all those girls in the penal system."

"Don't remind me," Willow scowled, slipping her jacket and shirt off, "Don't wanna think about anyone but me seeing you naked. You better not of dropped the soap at any stage."

"I was very careful, keepin' it in my hands," Tara reassured with a small smile, "No one touches me but you."

"Right. Good. Naked now."

Tara chuckled and removed her clothing before turning on the shower, the water just about lukewarm, figuring it was the best she could get given that they were in a shady motel, and stepped in, Willow right behind her. The redhead put her head on the brunette's shoulder and ran her hands up and down her wife's sides.

"You're warmer than the damn water."

"We'll just have to make our own steam," Tara replied saucily, "You wanna take me, sugar?"

"Yes I do," Willow responded and began nibbling on the brunette's earlobe, lowering her voice to a whisper, "Spread 'em."

Tara leant forward, placing her hands flat against the wall and spread her legs as far as she could in the small space, the water hitting the base of her neck and flowing downwards from there. Willow kissed along the other girl's back and reached her hands around to play with her breasts for a few minutes.

Tara sighed softly and let herself be caressed slowly, hanging her head and closing her eyes as she felt her body being loved and gasped sharply when two fingers entered her from behind, stretching inside her deeply.

"That's so good, Will…so good."

Willow smiled as she continued to kiss the brunette's back and thrust inside her, revelling in the moans her wife was emitting until she suddenly found her position swiftly changed, back against the wall as Tara entered her as well, matching the rhythm she had started.

"Shit, Tara! Give a girl a little warnin'!"

"Want me to stop?"

"Point taken. Fuckin' take me, baby."

"I am," Tara smirked, "I'm taking you hard."

Willow grunted and closed her eyes as they thrust their fingers inside each other. She felt Tara's lips on her own a few minutes later and eagerly responded, pushing her tongue forwards into her wife's mouth as the wonderful tension coiled around their bodies.

"Almost…there…" Tara panted when they pulled apart for air, bringing her thumb up to flick against the redhead's clit.

Willow used her spare hand hold onto the brunette's shoulder, steadying herself, knowing she was about to crash and threw her head back against wall when she finally did go over, feeling Tara following, contracting around her fingers barely seconds later, both of them breathing heavily.

Tara continued to take deep breaths as she came down from her high and opened to eyes to watch her wife as she continued to get lost in the ecstasy, rapture gracing her features. She smiled and stroked the redhead's cheek after a minute and Willow fluttered her eyes open, a dreamy smile on her face. She brought her hand from Tara's shoulder to rub the back of her head, where she'd banged it against the tile.

"That was damn well worth the bump I'm gonna get."


	11. Chapter 11

"How's the bump?" Tara asked, casting a glance aside to her wife, who was speeding down the highway, one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other rubbing the back of her head, under her hat.

"Wearin' it with pride, baby," Willow replied with a grin, "Wearin' it with pride."

Tara grinned back and was about to say something when she noticed flashing lights and bursts of colour up ahead. She squinted her eyes to focus on what she was seeing and sighed.

"Road blocks. There must be fifty cop cars parked there. How much you wanna bet it's all for us? Shoulda known they weren't just gonna let it go when we lost 'em last night. Damn it, how're we gonna get into the city now?"

Willow bit her lip as she too noticed the assemblage of authorities ahead before a small smirk tugged at her lips.

"Hold on tight, baby. Gotta pull over"

Tara's body jerked forward as Willow sharply turned the car to the left and down an embankment, just before they would've hit the road blocks that had been set up and drove straight back onto the road on the other side. The brunette looked behind and saw that the squad cars had tried to follow but had crashed down the embankment, before more followed and started trailing them. She shook her head and settled back into the seat.

"You better drive fast."

* * *

Langley saw Willow swerve suddenly and shouted at the officers he was in the car with to follow them. He kicked the seat when he saw all the other cop cars crash down into the embankment.

"Damn it! Speed up and catch up with them!"

The officer driving complied and pushed on the accelerator, the added speed causing them to fly over the embankment, into the air, landing in a truck that had been driving along the highway. The truck continued to drive, as if nothing happened and Langley sat up, shaking his head to get his bearings.

"Someone wanna hand me the mike?" he asked with a forced smile.

One of the officers handed him the mike and he began speaking into it.

"Hi. This is car – what car are we?"

"Thirty-five," one of the officers said, dazed.

"Car thirty-five. Yea. We're in a truck."

* * *

In a dispatch office in the middle of Los Angeles, a man was notified to send out a message and clipped his headphones into place.

"All units we have a signal ten seven niner, officers are in pursuit of a black and white dodge sedan; southbound on the 101. Responds to signal ten seven niner…"

* * *

Ethan Rayne sat at his desk, adjusting the frequency on the police scanner he kept until a broadcast caught his ear.

"…occupants of vehicle; one Toughskin Tara Blues, one Willow Blues. Consider them extremely dangerous. Repeat, all units we have a signal ten seven niner, officers are in pursuit of a black and white dodge sedan; southbound on the 101…"

He jumped up from his desk and ran from his office.

"Perpen Furher!"

* * *

"Signal ten seven niner still engaged. Vehicle travelling south bound. Approaching Los Angeles city limits. Commander advisers will contact Los Angeles precincts for a local intercept. Maintain pursuit. Use of unnecessary violence in the apprehension of these Blues girls has been approved."

* * *

"Damn, they're going all out," Willow commented as she saw the influx of officers following them, on any and all types of transportation, from horses, to boats riding alongside them in the river. She noticed another road block up ahead, "Hey, baby. We're going on a lion hunt."

Tara took her sunglasses off and looked at her wife like she was crazy.

"What in all hell are you talking about?"

The redhead smirked and motioned up ahead.

"Can't go over it. Can't go under it. Can't go around it. Gotta go through it," she said with a laugh as she crashed through the stop signs put up and swerved to dodge all the cars.

Tara chuckled too and put her sunglasses back on.

"You're just too damn cute for words."

Willow smiled at the compliment as they speed under an awning along the road, the sirens blaring loudly behind them.

"Well this is definitely West Aliso Street. If my estimations are correct, we should be very close to City Hall."

"They got all those murals there, right?" Tara asked with a fond smile.

"Sure do. Nowhere near as good as your paintin' though. Remember that nude portrait you did of me?"

"You mean the one I spend hours doing and the penguin burned when she found it?"

"That one indeed. Maybe you'll do another one for me one day?" Willow asked with a hopeful smile.

Tara glanced at the redhead and rested her hand over her wife's on the gear stick.

"Maybe I will."

The loving moment was ruined as Willow suddenly had to make a series of sharp turns and swerves to avoid the cars that had stalled in front of them in an attempt to get them to stop. Their car went flying over one cop car and both girls watched as the remaining cars all crashed into each other, causing a massive pile out. Willow was about to chuckle when she saw the officers take their guns out and begin shooting at them and sped up the car.

"Damn idiots."

* * *

Neither girl noticed the car that was sitting in an alleyway come to life as they passed. Ethan turned the engine on and moved forward.

"That was them?" he asked the fellow Nazi in the car with him, to confirm.

"That was them."

* * *

"Honey, we got more company," Tara remarked when she saw that two cars had been following them for a few minutes, "I think it's those damn Nazi's."

"Fuckin' California Nazi's," Willow shook her head, then instinctively ducked when she heard a shot fired at them, "Keep your head down. If those Hitler-loving bastards hurt my wife there's gonna be hell to pay."

Tara kept her head low as the bullets Ethan was shooting from his car and scowled when she heard a clunking sound from in front of them and saw a billow of smoke rise up from the engine.

"What the fuck was that?" she asked, glancing at the redhead.

"Engine," Willow replied with a grimace, "Thrown a rod."

"That bad?"

"Yep."

Willow stuck her head out the window so she could see ahead of her, the smoke inhibiting her view and prayed that a bullet wouldn't come in contact with her brain. She saw Tara move to stick her head out the window as well, to wipe the windscreen and pulled the brunette back into the car, yelling at her.

"What did I say about there being hell to pay if my wife gets hurt?! I'll damn well bring you back from the dead and kick your ass if you get killed!"

"You couldn't bring me back from the dead, Will…"

"I would find a damn way, but it don't matter 'cause I'm not gonna let that happen! Now fasten your seatbelt and keep you're fuckin' head down!"

Tara complied but sighed a breath of relief that Willow was able to sit back in the car as well, her brief wiping having cleared the windscreen enough to be able to see out of. She looked at the redhead, a small smile on her face.

"You love me."

"Yea, yea," Willow said, trying to act nonchalant, but her smile giving her away, "What can I say, you're hard not to love."

"Well I love you too."

Willow was momentarily distracted by the warm feeling that flooded her when Tara told her she loved her and crashed through a grouping of signs that said 'road closed', 'danger' and 'stop'. She shrugged and continued ahead, and heard the Nazi's crash into the debris her own crash had left behind. She glanced back to confirm what her ears had told her but her attention was focused forward as she heart Tara call her name.

"Willow!"

Willow quickly pressed down on the brakes as she realised the bridge they were on was unfinished and she was perilously close to driving them both straight over the edge. She cast a reassuring glance over to her wife.

"Don't worry baby. I got this."

Tara watched as Willow reversed the car back fully onto the bridge and tipped it forwards slightly before the car backflipped fully over the Nazi's cars and sped forwards back onto the main road.

* * *

Ethan watched as the car sailed over them and his mouth hung open in shock.

"Holy fuck."

In his surprise, he accidentally pressed down on the accelerator and didn't realise until it was too late that he was propelling them forwards straight off the bridge. His eyes darted all around him, the car falling hundreds of feet onto the from the bridge to the streets of Los Angeles until his fellow Nazi caught his eye and looked at him seriously.

"I've always loved you."

Those were the last words Ethan heard, his features contorted into horror at the admission as they finally landed, crashing into the tarmac of the road, causing a large hole.


	12. Chapter 12

Willow put her foot on the break when she saw the car plunge into the ground and quickly drove around it, pointing at a large white building just ahead of them.

"That's it, baby."

Tara got a broad grin on her face as Willow beeped her horn to get the people in front of the building to get out of the way before they parked the car and they both jumped out. Willow's mouth hung open as the car, as soon as they had exited, fell apart, collapsing on the ground. Tara grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the building.

"Come on!"

Willow shook herself out of her daze and they both ran into the building, Tara running over to one of the benches and that ran along the wall and pushing it towards the main doors, sealing them closed. Willow saw what she was doing and copied her motions, getting whatever furniture was littered around and shoving it against the heavy oak doors.

* * *

Outside, a new fleet of squad cars pulled up, hundreds of officers storming at the doors, yelling at anyone to open the doors, finding it impossible to get through.

* * *

When both Willow and Tara were satisfied with the numerous benches, parking ticket dispensers and trash cans that they had stock piled, they nodded at each other and both calmly walked over to the reception area. Willow took her hat off and smiled at the man sitting there.

"Good morning, sir. Could you please tell me where the office of the Los Angeles County Assessor is?"

"Um, that's down the hall and to the left and take the elevator to the eleventh floor."

"Many thanks, sir," Tara said as Willow dragged her towards the elevator.

The redhead pressed the up button and stepped inside as the elevator doors opened straight away. Tara followed and pressed the button for the eleventh floor, sighing as the doors closed.

"I always hated elevator muzak," she commented.

"So cheesy," Willow said, nodding her head in agreement, "Ten more floors of this…"

Tara smirked and turned her head.

"Wanna make out while we wait?"

* * *

The combined force of hundreds of police officers and army men that had arrived, shoving and pushing against the main doors of the building eventually caused the furniture barrier to collapse and all of them piled in and ran to the reception desk, each with a gun prominently sticking up. The squad leader lowered his gun and regarded the man at the reception desk.

"Excuse me, did you happen to see two girls come in here, wearing black suits, black hats? Sunglasses?"

"Oh yea," the receptionist nodded, seemingly unfazed by the numerous guns, "I just sent that way."

"Thank you," the leader said and broke off in a run in the direction he had been pointed.

* * *

Willow started thrusting her tongue more forcefully into the brunette's mouth and shoved her against the elevator wall, her hands quickly cupping her wife's firm breasts through her shirt, squeezing the flesh firmly. Tara moaned into kiss, a moan that coincided with the ping of the elevator as it arrived at their floor. The redhead reluctantly pulled back and pouted.

"I was enjoying that," she grumbled, then looked at the brunette, "Hold the doors."

Tara complied, despite being confused at the request and smirked as Willow pulled at the elevator controls, then took a can of propellant she had from her briefcase and a lighter from her pocket, setting the wiring aflame, rendering it unusable, before both stepped out into the lobby.

"I told you that you were hot when you were smart, right?"

"Hell yea I'm hot," Willow smirked as they walked through the first set of doors, "Hand me that trash can."

Tara handed the redhead the trashcan, who put it against the doors, like they had done downstairs. They both pushed a couch against it and ran down the hallway, eventually arriving at the door they needed to be at. Willow's eyes widened as she saw the sign on the door.

"Back in five minutes? Back in five fuckin' minutes? Well, baby, I guess we're waitin' five minutes."

Tara put her hand on the redhead's back comfortingly.

"You wanna cop a feel?" she asked kindly, knowing it was a sure-fire way of cheering her wife up.

Willow turned, her lower lip protruding in what had been the start of a pout and nodded. Tara took the redhead's hands, the briefcase hanging off her wrist and guided them to her chest. The smaller girl perked up instantly and had fun squeezing with varying degrees of intensity until a balding man peeked his head around the door, eating a sandwich.

"Can I help you?"

The girls looked at each other, then back at the man and walked him back to the wooden counter inside the office. Willow started fumbling in her briefcase while Tara tapped her fingers against the wood.

"This is the place for the taxes, right?" she asked the man, who nodded, "Good. Good."

Willow pulled an envelope out of the briefcase and shoved it at the man.

"This money is for the years assessment on the St. Mary of the Blessed Virgin orphanage in Gardena, Los Angeles County, California."

"It's all there," Tara affirmed, "All $5000."

* * *

The officers bounded up the stairs when it became apparent the elevator wasn't going to work and arrived at the right floor. After a few seconds of shoving the squad leader motioned for them all to stop and aimed his gun at the door, the others in the front row following suit.

"Fire!"

Multiple rounds of bullets were fired at the door and it was kicked open, everyone running into the hallway.

* * *

The assessor grabbed his stamp and pushed it down on the piece of paper he had been scribbling on, marking the word 'received' on it and pulling it from the book and handing it to Willow.

"And here is your receipt."

Willow smiled as the paper was placed in her hand, then turned her head sharply as a pair of handcuffs was clipped around one of her wrists, the other hooked around Tara's. She saw the hundreds of army men and officers with guns pointed at the two of them and put her hand over her wife's, a broad grin on her face.

Destroyed car, numerous near-death experiences and now having hundreds of guns pointed at her couldn't take away that fact that she was currently handcuffed to the love of her life. What could be better than that?


	13. Epilogue

"The penitentiary system were not being considerate of redheads when they deigned these orange jumpsuits to be the communal clothing of choice," Willow grumbled as she sat on the floor of their cell.

When they'd both been sent to the prison, Willow had bribed the warden with a monetary incentive to put her and Tara in the same cell and from day one complained about the colour.

"I think you look cute," Tara said from where she was lying on the lower bunk, "And your butt looks great. The orange really defines it."

"You just sayin' that outta marital duty?"

"Yea. But I believe it."

Willow smiled and pulled her harmonica out from the front pocket of her pants, testing it by blowing into it a couple of times.

"You still gonna do this jail band thing with me later today?"

"'Course," Tara replied, "Better than learnin' how to fix the engine of a car any day. I got you for that, anyway. Have you picked a song yet?"

Willow grinned and tossed her harmonica from one hand to the other.

"What else, baby? Jailhouse Rock."

* * *

**The End**


End file.
